SELECTIONS 

FROM    THE 

SCOTTISH  PHILOSOPHY  OF 
COMMON  SENSE 


'The  Open  Court  Series  of  Classics  of  Science  and 
Thilosophy^  .?{o,   2 

SELECTIONS 

FROM    THE 

SCOTTISH  PHILOSOPHY 
OF  COMMON  SENSE 


ft 


EDITED,  WITH   AN    INTRODUCTION,  BY 

G.  A.  JOHNSTON,  M.A. 

LECTURER   IN   MORAL   PHILOSOPHY   IN   THE   UNIVERSITY  OF   GLASGOW 


CHICAGO  AND  LONDON 
THE  OPEN  COURT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

1915 


Copyright  in  Great  Britain  under  the  Act  0/1911 


CONTENTS 


Introduction 


PAGB 

I 


THOMAS  REID 
I.  Introduction  to  the  Philosophy  of  Common 

Sense — 

§  I.  The  Importance  of  the  Subject,  and  the  Means  of 

Prosecuting  it  •  •  '    t   ^.x^' 

§  2.  The  Impediments  to  our   Knowledge  of   the 

Mind  .••••' 


30 


II.  Analysis  of  a  Typical  Sensation— 

S  I    The  Sensation  considered  abstractly      .  -37 

§  2!  Sensation   and    Remembrance,    Natural    Prin- 
ciples of  BeUef  •  •  •  , '       ^^ 
§  3.  Judgment  and  BeUef  in  some  Cases  precede 

Simple  Apprehension  .  •  -43 

§4    Two  Theories  of  the  Nature  of  BeUef  Refuted   .       44 
8  5    Apology  for  Metaphysical  Absurdities— Sensa- 
tion without  a  Sentient,  a  Consequence  of 
the  Theory  of  Ideas   .  •  •  -4 

§  6.  The  Conception  and  Belief  of  a  Sentient  Bemg 
or  Mind  is  suggested  by  our  Constitution— 
The  Notion  of  Relations  not  always  got  by 
comparing  the  Related  Ideas  .  •       5^ 

8  7  There  is  a  QuaUty  or  Virtue  in  Bodies,  which  we 
call  their  SmeU— How  this  is  connected  in 
the  Imagination  with  the  Sensation  . 


SIS'^^BS 


60 


vi     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

PAGE 

§  8.  That  there  is  a  Principle  in  Human  Nature, 
from  which  the  Notion  of  this,  as  well  as 
all  other  Natural  Virtues  or  Causes,  is  derived       63 

§  9.  Whether  in  Sensation  the  Mind  is  Active  or 

Passive  ?  .  .  .  .  •       70 


III.  Knowledge  and  Reality — 

§  I.  Of  Hardness 

§  2.  Of  Natural  Signs        . 

§  3,  Of  Extension 

§  4.  Of  the  Visible  Appearances  of  Objects 

§  5.  Of  Perception  in  General 

§  6.  Of  the  Process  of  Nature  ifi  Perception 

Appendix  :  Of  Cause  and  Power 

IV.  The  Operations  of 'the  Mind — 

§  I.  Principles  taken  for  Granted 

§  2.  Of  Hypotheses  and  Analogy    •'  . 

§  3.  Of  Perception 

§  4.  Of  Sensation        .  .  .         '*> 

§  5.  Of  Primary  and  Secondary  QuaUties 

§  6.  Of  Conception     , 

§  7.  Of  Judgment 

§  8.  Of  Common  Sense 

§  9.  First  Principles  of  Contingent  Truths 

§  10.  First  Principles  of  Necessary  Truths 

V.  Of  Morals— 


72 

74 
80 

84 

89 

98 

100 


HI 

117 
118 

122 

128 
132 
148 
152 
157 


§  I.  Of  Benevolent  Affection  in  General        .  .161 

§  2.  There  are  Rational  Principles  of  Action  in  Man     165 
§  3.  Of  Regard  to  Our  Good  on  the  Whole  .  .168 

§  4.  Of  the  Notion  of  Duty,  Rectitude,  Moral  Obliga- 
tion    ......     173 

§  5.  Observations  concerning  Conscience       .  .182 

§  6.  That  Moral  Approbation  implies  a  Real  Judg- 
ment .  .  .  .  .  .186 

ADAM  FERGUSON 

Of  Man's  Progressive  Nature         .         .  -197 


CONTENTS  vii 


PAGE 


JAMES  BEATTIE 

Of  the  Perception  of  Truth  in  General         .  217 

DUGALD  STEWART 

I.  Of  the  Object  of  Philosophy,  and  the 
Method  of  Prosecuting  Philosophical 
Inquiries      ......  229 

II.  Of  the  Association  of  Ideas    .  .  .  233 

III.  Of  the  Power  which  the  Mind  has  over 

THE  Train  of  its  Thoughts    .  .  .  236 

IV.  Of  the  Influence  of  Association  on  our 

Active  Principles,  and  on  our  Moral 
Judgments    ......  242 

V.  Of  Certain   Laws  of  Belief,  inseparably 

CONNECTED  WITH  THE  EXERCISE  OF  CON- 
SCIOUSNESS, Memory,  Perception,  and 
Reasoning    .....  249 

Index  ........  265 


SELECTIONS    FROM    THE 

SCOTTISH    PHILOSOPHY    OF 

COMMON    SENSE 

INTRODUCTION 

The  Scottish  Philosophy  of  Common  Sense  origin- 
ated as  a  protest  against  the  philosophy  of  .the 
greatest  Scottish  philosopher.  Hume's  sceptical 
conclusions  did  not  excite  as  much  opposition 
as  might  have  been  expected.  But  in  Scotland 
especially  there  was  a  good  deal  of  spoken  criticism 
which  was  never  written ;  and  some  who  would 
have  liked  to  denounce  Hume's  doctrines  in  print 
were  restrained  by  the  salutary  reflection  that  if 
they  were  challenged  to  give  reasons  for  their 
criticism  they  would  find  it  uncommonly  difficult 
to  do  so.  Hume's  scepticism  was  disliked,  but  it 
was  difficult  to  see  how  it  could  be  adequately 
met. 

At  this  point  Reid  ^  stepped  into  the  field.     He 

^  Thomas  Reid  was  born  in  171  o  at  Strachan  in  Kincardineshire. 
His  father  was  minister  of  the  parish.  At  the  age  of  twelve,  Reid 
entered  Marischal  College,  Aberdeen,  but  did  not  profit  much  by 
the  teaching.  After  graduating  in  Arts,  he  studied  Divinity, 
and  was  Ucensed  to  preach  in  173 1.  In  1733  he  was  appointed 
Librarian  of  Marischal  College,  and  in  1737  was  presented  by 

I 


.2  .PMILOSQPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

was  the  only  man  of  his  time  who  really  miderstood 
the  genesis  of  Hume's  scepticism  and  succeeded  in 
locating  its  sources.  At  first  sight  it  would  seem 
that  this  discovery  required  no  peculiar  perspicuity. 
It  would  seem  that  nobody  could  help  seeing  that 
Hume's  sceptical  conclusions  were  based  on  Locke's 
premises,  and  that  Hume  could  never  be  success- 
fully opposed  by  any  critic  who  accepted  Locke's 
assumptions.  But  this  is  precisely  one  of  those 
obvious  things  that  is  noticed  by  nobody.  And  in 
fact  Reid  was  the  first  man  to  see  it  clearly.  It  thus 
became  his  duty  to  question  the  assumptions  on 
which  all  his  own  early  thought  had  been  based. 
The  result  of  this  reflection  was  the  conclusion 
that,    since    the    "  ideal    theory "    of    Locke    and 

King's  College  to  the  living  of  New  Machar,  near  Aberdeen. 
At  first  his  parishioners  were  very  hostile,  tradition  saying  that 
liis  uncle  had  to  guard  the  pulpit  stairs  with  a  drawn  sword. 
But  their  prejudices  were  gradually  overcome  by  Reid's  practical 
benevolence,  though  to  the  end  they  were  dissatisfied  with  his 
sermons,  which  they  regarded  as  not  sufficiently  original.  In 
1 75 1  Reid  was  appointed  a  regent  at  King's  College,  and  became 
"  Professor  of  Philosophy,"  his  lectures  including  mathematics 
and  physics.  He  was  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Aberdeen 
Philosophical  Society  ("  The  Wise  Club  "),  which  included  among 
its  members  Beattie  and  Campbell.  It  was  in  this  society  that 
Reid  developed  his  philosophy.  His  point  of  view  was  made 
known  to  the  club  in  several  papers,  which  were  systematised 
in  the  Inquiry  into  the  Human  Mind  on  the  Principles  of  Common 
Sense.  This  was  published  in  1764,  the  year  in  which  Reid 
succeeded  Adam  Smith  as  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy  in 
the  University  of  Glasgow.  The  next  sixteen  years  were  fully 
occupied  with  the  duties  of  his  chair  and  University  business. 
In  1780  he  retired  from  his  active  University  work,  in  order  to 
complete  his  philosophical  system.  In  1785  appeared  the 
Essays  on  the  Intellectual  Powers  of  Man,  and  three  years  later 
the  Essays  on  the  Active  Powers  of  Man.  The  last  years  of  his 
Ufe  were  devoted  to  mathematics  and  gardening,  and  in  1796 
he  died. 


INTRODUCTION  3 

Berkeley  logically  led  to  Hume's  scepticism,  and 
since  scepticism  was  intolerable,  that  theory  would 
have  to  be  amended,  or,  if  necessary,  abandoned. 

Reid  himself  gives  an  admirable  account  of  the 
way  in  which  he  was  roused  from  his  dogmatic 
slumbers.     "  I     acknowledge,"    he    says    in    the 
Dedication  of  the  Inquiry,  "  that  I  never  thought 
of   calling   in    question   the   principles    commonly 
received  with  regard  to  the  human  understanding, 
until  the  Treatise  of  Human  Nature  was  published 
in  the  year  1739.     The  ingenious  author  of  that 
treatise  upon  the  principles  of  Locke — who  was  no 
sceptic — hath  built  a  system  of  scepticism,  which 
leaves  no  ground  to  believe  any  one  thing  rather 
than  its  contrary.     His  reasoning  appeared  to  me 
to  be  just ;    there  was  therefore  a  necessity  to  call 
in  question  the  principles  upon  which  it  was  founded, 
or  to  admit  the  conclusion."  ^     Reid  was  deter- 
mined not  to  acquiesce  in  the  sceptical  conclusion. 
And  that  for  three  reasons.     Scepticism,  he  says, 
is  trebly  destructive.     It  destroys  the  science  of  a 
philosopher,  it  undermines  the  faith  of  a  Christian, 
and  it  renders  nugatory  the  prudence  of  a  man  of 
common  understanding.     Thus  he  was  forced  to 
undertake  a  criticism  of  the  assumptions  on  which 
that   sceptical   conclusion   was   based.     "  For   my 
own  satisfaction,  I  entered  into  a  serious  examina- 
tion of  the  principles  upon  which  this  sceptical 
1  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  95. 


4      PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

system  is  built ;  and  was  not  a  little  surprised  to 
find  that  it  leans  with  its  whole  weight  upon  a 
hypothesis  which  is  ancient  indeed,  and  hath  been 
very  generally  received  by  philosophers,  but  of 
which  I  could  find  no  solid  proof."  ^  This  hypo- 
thesis is  to  be  found  in  Locke  and  Descartes,  and 
consists  in  the  postulation  of  a  world  of  ideas  inter- 
mediate between  the  knower  and  the  object  known. 
It  is  from  this  hypothesis,  says  Reid,  that  Hume's 
scepticism  directly  results.  Reid  therefore  really 
criticises  Hume  via  Locke.  He  takes  up  the  position 
that  if  Locke's  assumption  be  proved  untenable, 
Hume's  conclusion  will  fall  to  the  ground.  Thus, 
while  it  is  true  that  it  was  Hume  who  elicited  Reid's 
philosophy,  that  philosophy  is  not  so  much  a  direct 
**  answer  to  Hume  "  as  an  answer  to  Locke. 

Now,  Locke's  doctrine  admitted  of  two,  and  only 
two,  answers.  One  of  these  was  given  by  Berkeley, 
and  led  to  the  scepticism  of  Hume.  The  other  was 
given  by  Reid.  For  Locke  perception  involves 
three  elements  :  the  percipient,  the  idea  perceived, 
and  the  thing  ;  and  it  is  assumed  that  the  idea  is 
somehow  a  copy  of  the  external  reality.  Both 
Berkeley  and  Reid  saw  clearly  the  difficulties  of 
the  doctrine  of  Representative  Perception.  If  the 
mind  is  confined  to  its  own  ideas  and  is  cut  off  from 
immediate  knowledge  of  the  real  world,  how  is  it 
to  know  if  its  ideas  do  or  do  not  agree  with  things  ? 

^  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  96. 


INTRODUCTION  5 

In  order  to  compare  two  things,  it  is  necessary  to 
know  both.  Thus  we  cannot  compare  ideas  with 
the  things  which  they  represent,  because  we  can 
never  escape  the  circle  of  our  own  ideas.  And  the 
further  objection  is  advanced  that  if  the  external 
world  does  exist,  it  cannot  be  like  our  ideas,  for 
nothing  but  an  idea  can  be  like  an  idea.  Both 
Berkeley  and  Reid  saw  these  difficulties  in  Locke's 
doctrine.  They  both  agreed  that  Locke  had  gone 
wrong.  How  he  had  gone  wrong  was  the  question 
on  which  they  differed.  They  agreed,  it  is  true, 
that  Locke  had  obscured  the  nature  of  knowledge 
by  interpolating  a  spurious  factor.  But  they 
differed  toto  ccelo  with  regard  to  the  question 
which  of  Locke's  factors  was  unreal.  By  Berkeley 
it  was  maintained  that  Locke's  third  factor — the 
material  world — had  no  real  existence.  But  Reid 
denied  the  existence  of  Locke's  second  factor. 
Locke's  imitative  and  intermediate  ideas  are  simply 
creatures  of  phantasy  :  they  have  no  real  existence. 
Thus  Berkeley  is  left  with  mind  plus  ideas,  and 
Reid  with  mind  plus  matter.  For  both,  the  relation 
between  mind  and  its  object  is  immediate. 

Reid  naturally  regarded  his  own  answer  to  Locke 
as  better  than  Berkeley's,  partly  because  Hume 
had  argued  that  Berkeley's  criticisms  of  Locke's 
material  substance  could  with  equal  force  be 
levelled  against  Berkeley's  own  spiritual  substance  ; 
and  partly  because  he  believed  that  a  world  which 


6      PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

consists  of  minds  plus  matter  is  more  "  consen- 
taneous "  with  common  sense  than  one  which 
contains  only  minds  plus  ideas.  Neither  of  these 
reasons,  in  point  of  fact,  is  sound,  though  both 
would  have  been  perfectly  valid  if  Berkeley  had 
really  meant  what  Hume  and  Reid  thought  that  he 
meant.  It  ought  to  be  remembered,  when  Reid 
is  criticised  for  his  vulgar  failure  to  appreciate 
the  point  of  Berkeley's  argument,  that  Hume  also 
did  not  fully  understand  it.  Berkeley  takes  special 
pains  in  the  Three  Dialogues  between  Hylas  and 
Philonous  to  answer  precisely  the  criticisms  that 
Reid  and  Hume  advanced.  He  points  out,  for 
instance,  that  his  arguments  against  material 
substance  cannot  be  successfully  used  against 
spiritual  substances,  for  spirits  are  not  inert  and 
passive,  but  are  active  beings,  which  are  not  known 
as  ideas,  but  are  apprehended  through  notions. 
Hume's  criticism  of  Berkeley  simply  makes  the 
unjustifiable  assumption  that  spirits  are  on  the 
same  level  as  ideas,  and  that  they  are  known  in 
the  same  way.  Reid's  misapprehension  of  Berke- 
ley's meaning  is  neither  more  nor  less  egregious. 
He  assumes  that  in  denying  the  existence  of  matter, 
and  in  asserting  that  the  world  consists  solely  of 
spirits  and  ideas,  Berkeley  is  proclaiming  the  non- 
existence of  the  world  to  which  common  sense 
bears  testimony.  Now,  Reid  knew  that  Berkeley 
was   never    weary    of   insisting   that    his    doctrine 


INTRODUCTION  7 

denied  nothing  that  common  sense  admitted.  The 
material  world  which  Berkeley  destroyed  was  not  a 
conviction  of  common  sense,  but  a  philosophical 
hypothesis.  For  him  the  world  remained  as  real 
as  ever.  If  Hume  and  Reid  had  been  less  eager 
to  criticise  Berkeley  and  more  anxious  to  under- 
stand him,  they  might  have  seen  the  importance 
of  the  suggestions  made  by  him — e.g.  in  the  second 
edition  of  the  Principles  and  in  Siris — towards  an 
interpretation  of  the  world  based  on  the  concur- 
rence of  both  reason  and  sense.  Hume  entirely 
failed  to  appreciate  Berkeley's  suggestions  towards 
a  notional  system  of  knowledge,  and,  if  Reid 
noticed  them,  he  made  no  use  of  them  in  the  de- 
velopment of  his  own  system. 

The  great  merit  of  Reid's  answer  to  Locke  lay 
in  its  immunity  from  criticism  along  Hume's  lines. 
By  denying  the  existence  of  ideas  in  Locke's  sense, 
it  entirely  cut  the  ground  away  from  Hume.  Reid 
himself  points  out  that  his  own  doctrine,  in  one 
aspect,  forms  the  reductio  ad  absurdum  of  the  whole 
"  ideal  theory."  Locke  starts  with  minds,  ideas, 
and  matter.  Berkeley  disproves  matter  and  re- 
tains minds  and  ideas.  Hume  denies  the  existence 
of  minds  and  preserves  only  ideas.  And  Reid  in 
turn  denies  ideas.  Thus  the  development  of 
thought  has,  by  a  necessary  process,  led  to  the 
destruction  of  the  whole  apparatus  with  which 
Locke  started.     Reid  therefore  resolves  to  begin 


8      PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

afresh,  not  with  hypotheses  postulated  by  philo- 
sophy, but  with  principles  guaranteed  by  common 
sense. 

It  may  have  been  noticed  that  in  this  account  of 
the  development  of  Reid's  thought  with  reference 
to  his  immediate  predecessors,  two  slightly  different 
views  have  been  implied.  So  far  these  have 
purposely  not  been  distinguished.  For  it  is 
probable  that  the  actual  development  of  Reid's 
own  views  was  determined  in  the  way  sketched 
above,  partly  by  direct  opposition  to  Hume  and 
partly  by  criticism  of  Locke.  It  is  probable  that 
he  was  not  clearly  conscious  how  far  his  views  owed 
their  origin  to  criticism  of  Locke,  and  how  far  to 
antagonism  to  Hume.  But  it  is  worth  while  to 
make  the  difference  clear.  If  we  regard  Reid's 
doctrine  as  developed  mainly  by  criticism  of  Locke's 
assumptions,  it  can  be  shewn  that  it  retains  more 
of  the  Descartes-Locke  assumptions  than  it  denies. 
In  particular,  Reid  preserves,  though  he  restates, 
the  two-substance  doctrine,  which  was  one  of  the 
most  important  elements  in  the  Locke-Descartes 
Gemeingut,  In  one  aspect,  then,  Reid  may  be 
regarded  as  Locke  purged  and  Locke  re-created.  It 
is  only  a  mild  exaggeration  to  say  that  Reid's 
system  is  a  critical  reconstruction  of  Locke. 

But  when  Reid's  work  is  considered  in  its  direct 
application  to  Hume,  it  assumes  a  somewhat 
different    tinge.     It    then    appears    more    closely 


INTRODUCTION  9 

related  to  the  uncritical  appeals  to  common  sense 
made  by  Reid's  contemporaries  and  successors. 
Reid  saw  that  some  of  Hume's  conclusions  were 
ridiculous,  and  he  believed  that  others  were  im- 
pious ;  and  he  was  apt  to  assume  that  their  apparent 
absurdity  and  impiety  supplied  adequate  grounds 
for  denying  them.  Reid  appealed  from  the  hypo- 
theses of  philosophy  to  the  **  principles  of  common 
sense."  Common  sense  secured  to  him  the  belief 
in  the  existence  of  mind  and  matter.  From  this 
naive  dualism  was  developed  his  Natural  Realism. 
Such  is  another  view  that  may  be  taken  of  the 
genesis  of  Reid's  doctrine. 

The  truth  lies  somewhere  between  the  two 
sharply  contrasted  views.  The  distinction  between 
them  was  almost  certainly  hardly  present  to  Reid's 
own  mind.  But  the  former  is  nearer  the  truth  than 
the  latter.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  there  is  a  Reid 
who  in  the  Inquiry  and  even  in  the  Essays  appeals 
from  philosophy,  in  the  manner  of  Beattie  and 
Oswald,  to  vulgar  common  sense.  There  is  a  Reid 
who  condemns  a  theory  by  consigning  its  author 
to  the  mad-house.  There  is  a  Reid  who  gets  rid 
of  difficulties  by  simply  laughing  at  them.  But 
this  is  not  the  normal  Reid.  When  the  normal 
Reid  appeals  to  common  sense,  it  is  an  appeal 
not  to  blind  feeling,  but  to  permanent  principles 
of  human  nature.  He  makes  an  appeal,  as  Sir 
William  Hamilton  has  said,   **  from  the  heretical 


lo     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

conclusions  of  particular  philosophies  to  the  catho- 
lic principles  of  all  philosophy."  ^  Further,  while 
it  is  perfectly  true  that  Reid's  nisus  to  inde- 
pendent philosophical  inquiry  was  due  to  his 
desire  to  rebut  Hume's  conclusions,  and  while 
he  did  criticise  Hume  directly,  he  had  acuteness 
enough  to  see  that  the  only  really  successful 
criticism  of  Hume  must  be  Higher  Criticism,  in 
the  strict  sense  of  that  much-abused  term,  i.e. 
criticism  higher  upstream,  nearer  the  source. 

Reid's  work  was  both  constructive  and  critical. 
He  did  not  start  absolutely  de  novo  with  the  con- 
victions of  common  sense.  What  he  did  was  to 
take  over,  in  large  measure,  the  results  of  Locke's 
work,  at  the  same  time  subjecting  it  to  examination 
in  the  light  of  all  the  information  he  could  himself 
acquire  by  a  common-sense  investigation  of  mental 
processes.  Nothing  could  be  truer  than  Sidgwick's 
statement,  "  If  Locke  is  the  first  founder  of  the 
distinctively  British  science.  Empirical  Psychology, 
of  which  the  primary  method  is  introspective 
observation  and  analysis,  I  think  Reid  has  a  fair 
claim  to  be  regarded  as  a  second  founder."  ^ 

Much  less  favourable  was  the  judgment  that  Kant 
passed  on  Reid.  In  the  Prolegomena  to  Any  Future 
Metaphysic,  Kant  declares  that  Reid  entirely 
missed  the  point  of  Hume's  problem.  What  Reid 
ought  to  have  done,  says  Kant,   was  to  "  probe 

1  Reid's  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  751.  ^  Mind,  1895,  p.  153. 


INTRODUCTION  ii 

more  deeply  into  the  nature  of  reason."  But, 
instead  of  doing  this,  he  "  discovered  a  more  con- 
venient means  of  putting  on  a  bold  face  without 
any  proper  insight  into  the  question,  by  appealing 
to  the  common  sense  of  mankind."  Such  an  appeal 
to  common  sense,  Kant  continues,  had  the  effect 
of  enabling  the  emptiest  babbler  without  an  atom 
of  insight  to  attack  with  some  show  of  success  a 
thinker  of  Hume's  calibre.  Now,  it  seems  in- 
conceivable that,  if  Kant  had  really  read  Reid,  he 
could  have  written  about  him  in  such  a  strain.  And 
it  has  been  suggested  that  in  all  probability  Kant 
had  no  first-hand  knowledge  of  Reid.  In  the 
Prolegomena  he  mentions  Reid  along  with  Oswald, 
Beattie,  and  Priestley,  making  no  distinction 
between  them.  But  if  Kant  had  himself  read 
the  writings  of  these  men,  he  could  hardly  have 
bracketed  them,  for  Reid  is  altogether  in  a  different 
class  from  the  other  three.  Hence  the  very 
plausible  suggestion,  supported  by  the  way  in 
which  Kant  mentions  the  names  ("  Reid,  Oswald, 
Beattie,  and  even  Priestley  "),  that  Kant's  know- 
ledge of  Reid  was  derived  solely  from  the  criticisms 
in  Priestley's  Examination. 

But  Hume  had  certainly  read  Reid,  and  it  is 
interesting  to  compare  his  criticism  with  Kant's. 
Hume  received,  from  a  common  friend  (Dr  Blair), 
parts  of  the  manuscript  of  Reid's  Inquiry.  He 
started  to  read  it  with  no  enthusiasm,  muttering  a 


12     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

wish  '*  that  the  parsons  would  confine  themselves 
to  their  old  task  of  worrying  one  another,  and 
leave  philosophers  to  argue  with  moderation, 
temper,  and  good  manners."  But  the  book  itself 
entirely  dissolved  Hume's  prejudice,  and  elicited 
a  generous  and  appreciative  letter  to  Reid.  *'  It 
is  certainly  very  rare,"  Hume  writes,  **  that  a 
piece  so  deeply  philosophical  is  wrote  with  so  much 
spirit,  and  affords  so  much  entertainment  to  the 
reader.  .  .  .  There  are  some  objections  that  I 
would  propose,  but  I  will  forbear  till  the  whole 
can  be  before  me.  I  will  only  say  that  if  you  have 
been  able  to  clear  up  these  abstruse  and  important 
topics,  instead  of  being  mortified,  I  shall  be  so  vain 
as  to  pretend  to  a  share  of  the  praise."  The  point 
specially  worth  noticing  in  this  testimony  is  the 
fact  that  Hume  remarks  on  the  '*  deeply  philo- 
sophical "  character  of  Reid's  work.  He  does 
not  dream  of  talking  of  "  empty  babblers  "  :  in 
particular,  it  does  not  occur  to  him  that  Reid  had 
appealed  from  scientific  philosophy  to  vulgar 
common  sense.  He  recognises  that  Reid's  attack 
on  him  is  a  damaging  criticism,  made  on  the  strictly 
philosophical  level. 

The  analogies  between  Reid's  work  and  Kant's 
are  many  and  striking.  Reid  began,  as  Kant  did, 
by  comparing  the  slow  progress  made  by  philo- 
sophy with  the  rapid  advance  of  physical  science. 
And,   like   Kant,    Reid  determined  that,   if   philo- 


INTRODUCTION  13 

sophy  were  to  advance,  the  attitude  of  physical 
science  must  be  adopted.  Like  Kant,  Reid  was 
a  competent  mathematician  and  physicist,  with  a 
great  respect  for  Newton.  But  his  general  philo- 
sophical method  differs  from  that  of  Kant.  While 
Kant's  work  is  written,  in  the  main,  from  the 
epistemological  standpoint,  Reid  remains  true  to 
the  traditional  British  psychological  method.  The 
philosopher  must  undertake  an  examination  of  the 
operations  of  the  mind.  He  is  an  anatomist  of  the 
mind.  His  task  is  much  more  difficult  than  that 
of  the  student  of  the  anatomy  of  the  body,  *'  for 
it  is  his  own  mind  only  that  he  can  examine  with 
any  degree  of  accuracy  and  distinctness."  ^  Philo- 
sophy is  based  on  the  results  of  our  introspective 
observation  of  the  working  of  our  own  minds. 

Reid's  critique  of  knowledge,  like  Kant's,  opposes 
any  sensationalism  such  as  Hume's.  Hume  main- 
tained that  the  mind  and  its  objects  can  be  reduced 
to  a  series  of  particular  sensations,  and  that  these 
individual  sensations  may  be  known,  each  inde- 
pendent of  the  other.  Reid  criticises  this  view,  to 
which  he  gives  the  scholastic  name  *'  simple  appre- 
hension." It  is  a  mistake  to  think,  he  says,  that 
knowledge  consists  originally  in  simple  apprehen- 
sion. ^  It  is  a  mistake  to  think  that  we  start  origin- 
ally with  simple  sensations  and  then  refer  them 
to  their  subjects  and  their  objects.     On  the  con- 

1  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  98.  2  Ibid.,  p.  106. 


14    PHILOSOPHY  OF   COMMON  SENSE 

trary,  the  simplest  act  of  the  mind  is  already  a 
judgment.  Judgment  is  both  logically  and  psycho- 
logically prior  to  simple  apprehension.     Judgment 

/  is  the  unit  of  knowledge.  By  a  process  of  analysis, 
it  is  possible  to  differentiate  elements  within  the 
judgment.  But  these  elements  are  elements 
merely ;  and  they  can  be  regarded  separately 
only  by  a  process  of  abstraction.  Thus  even 
simple  apprehension  is  not  really  simple  :  it  is 
reached  by  abstraction  from  the  natural  unit  of 
knowledge.  If  we  analyse  even  the  simplest  sen- 
sation, we  find  that  it  always  implies  judgment. 

In  the  Inquiry  Reid  proves  this  in  detail,  by  an 
examination  of  the  five  external  senses.  He  begins 
with  smell,  the  simplest  and  least  intellectual  of 
these,  and  shows  that  even  here  a  system  of  natural 
judgments  is  suggested.  These  natural  judgments 
are  not   actually  given  in   experience  :     they   are 

,  suggested  by  experience.  The  natural  judgments 
thus  suggested  are  necessary  for  the  constitution 
of  experience.  Were  sense-experience  not  accom- 
panied by  these  natural  suggestions,  it  would  itself 
be  an  impossibility.  What  are  these  constitutive 
natural  judgments  ?  There  is  the  judgment,  in 
the  first  place,  of  existence.  Our  sensations  im- 
mediately suggest  that  what  we  now  feel  or  perceive 
actually  exists,  and  memory  suggests  that  what  we 
remember  did  actually  exist.  But  this  judgment 
of  existence  does  not  mean  that  what  we  feel  exists 


INTRODUCTION  15 

only  as  a  sensation.  It  implies  the  permanent 
existence  of  {a)  minds  and  [h)  the  material  world. 
Reid  admits  that  we  cannot  logically  infer  the  exist- 
ence either  of  minds  or  of  the  external  world.  But 
he  insists  that  they  are  principles  of  common  sense, 
"  They  are  judgments  of  nature — judgments  not 
got  by  comparing  ideas  and  perceiving  agreements 
and  disagreements,  but  immediately  inspired  by 
our  constitution."  ^ 

Another  natural  judgment  is  that  there  is  a  real 
difference  between  primary  and  secondary  qualities. 
Reid  points  out  that  Berkeley's  arguments  against 
the  distinction  must  be  regarded  as  conclusive  by 
all  who  agree  with  the  "  ideal  theory."  *'  Yet, 
after  all,"  he  says,  "  there  appears  to  be  a  real 
foundation  for  it  in  the  principles  of  our  nature."  ^ 
He  draws  a  sharp  distinction  between  sensible 
qualities  and  sensations.  The  almost  universal 
tendency  to  confuse  the  external  quality  with  the 
sensation  is  due  to  the  fact  that  we  have  no  name 
for  the  sensation,  as  distinct  from  the  perceived 
quality.  But  Reid  insists  that,  though  we  draw 
no  distinction  in  language,  the  distinction  does 
really  exist.  For  example,  our  sensation  of  hard- 
ness is  quite  distinct  from  the  hardness  which  really 
exists  in  bodies.  **  Hitherto,  they  have  been  con- 
founded by  the  most  acute  enquirers  into  the 
principles  of  human  nature,  although  they  appear, 

1  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  no.  2  /jj^,^  vol.  i.  p.  123. 


i6    PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

upon  accurate  reflection,  not  only  to  be  different 
things,  but  as  unlike  as  pain  is  to  the  point  of  a 
sword."  ^  In  every  case  the  sensible  quality  must 
be  distinguished  from  the  sensation  ;  and  in  no 
case  is  the  sensible  quality  dependent  for  its  exist- 
ence on  the  sensation.  Reid  really  obscures  the 
distinction  between  primary  and  secondary  quali- 
ties, though  in  a  different  way  from  Berkeley. 
Berkeley  had  reduced  all  qualities  to  secondary 
qualities :  Reid,  in  effect,  makes  all  qualities 
primary.  Thus  colour  means,  he  says,  **  not  a 
sensation  of  the  mind,  which  can  have  no  existence 
when  it  is  not  perceived,  but  a  quality  or  modifica- 
tion of  bodies,  which  continues  to  be  the  same, 
whether  it  is  seen  or  not."  ^  Eventually,  after 
considering  in  detail  in  the  Inquiry  various  primary 
and  secondary  qualities,  the  only  difference  Reid 
finds  between  them  is  that  there  is  a  resemblance 
and  a  necessary  connection  between  primary 
qualities  and  the  sensations  we  have  of  them,  but 
not  between  secondary  qualities  and  our  sensations. 
In  the  Essays  Reid  attacks  the  problem  again,  and 
adds  that  our  senses  give  us  a  direct  and  distinct 
notion  of  primary  qualities,  but  of  secondary 
qualities  only  a  relative  and  obscure  notion. 
The  important  point  is  not  so  much  Reid's  attempt 
to  distinguish  primary  from  secondary  qualities 
as  his  insistence  on  the  fact  that  in  both  cases  our 

1  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  122.  *  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  137. 


INTRODUCTION  17 

sensations  are  generically  different  from  the  quali- 
ties of  things.  Hence  mere  sensation  can  never 
give  us  knowledge  of  an  object :  for  that,  perception 
is  necessary.  Reid  is  far  from  consistent  in  main- 
taining the  distinction  between  perception  and 
sensation  ;  but  in  the  main  he  holds  that  while 
sensation  is  the  condition  of  perception,  yet  bare 
sensation  by  itself  neither  is  an  object  of  knowledge 
nor  can  give  complete  knowledge  of  an  object.  In 
all  knowledge,  he  holds,  is  involved  the  perceptual 
activity  of  the  self,  working  in  accordance  with 
certain  natural  judgments.  It  will  be  evident  how 
far  this  theory  is  in  general  agreement  with  Kant's 
doctrine  of  the  importance  of  judgment,  and  the 
in  dispensability  for  knowledge  of  the  subject  with 
its  categories. 

Reid's  contemporaries  and  successors  in  the 
Scottish  School  made  little,  if  any,  real  contribution 
to  the  Philosophy  of  Common  Sense.  He  was  the 
greatest,  as  he  was  the  first,  of  the  School;  and  its  other 
members  were  content,  for  the  most  part,  to  repeat  in 
other  words  what  he  had  already  said.  Reid  was  the 
most  strictly  philosophical  member  of  the  school. 
The  extracts  in  this  volume,  though  they  reveal  the 
other  thinkers  at  their  best ,  make  that  sufficiently  clear. 

Beattie  ^  in  his  own  day  far  surpassed  Reid  in 
reputation  :   this  was  largely  due  to  what  may  now 

1  James  Beattie  was  born  in  1735,  and  in  1749  went  to  Marischal 
College,  Aberdeen.  His  circumstances  were  narrow,  and  on 
graduation  he  took  a  post  as  schoolmaster  at  Fordoun,   Kin- 

2 


i8    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

be  regarded  as  his  most  serious  defects,  the  lack  of 
**  body  "  in  his  work,  and  his  vulgar  denunciations 
of  Hume.  Beattie's  popularity  in  his  own  day  had 
a  good  deal  to  do,  as  Stewart  points  out,  with  the 
bad  odour  in  which  the  Philosophy  of  Common 
Sense  came  to  be  held.  Beattie  was  regarded  as  its 
chief  exponent,  and  his  uncritical  work  was  considered 
typical  of  the  Scottish  philosophy.  His  Essay  on  the 
Nature  and  Immutability  of  Truth  is  a  rather  foolish 
and  vulgar  attack  on  Hume's  scepticism,  but  it  was 
appreciated  more  than  Reid's  work  by  those  who, 
like  George  III.,  were  not  peculiarly  intelligent. 
Ferguson's  ^  work  betrays  the  same  thinness  and 

cardineshire,  where  he  became  acquainted  with  Lord  Monboddo. 
In  1760  he  was  appointed  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy  in 
Marischal  College,  where  he  became  a  member  of  Reid's  "  Wise 
Club."  Beattie  was  a  poet  by  choice  and  a  philosopher  only  by 
profession.  He  himself  preferred  his  poetry  to  his  philosophy, 
but  in  this  judgment  he  was  not  supported  by  the  pubhc.  The 
Essay  on  Truth,  published  in  1770,  passed  through  five  large 
editions  in  four  years.  Beattie  came  to  be  regarded  as  the 
defender  of  the  faith,  and  all  sorts  of  honours  were  showered  on 
him.  He  continued  to  lecture  at  Aberdeen  till  1797,  when  he 
became  too  ill  to  do  even  occasional  lecturing.  He  died  in  1803. 
1  Adam  Ferguson  was  born  in  1723  at  Logierait,  Perthshire, 
where  his  father  was  minister  of  the  parish.  Passing  through 
the  Universities  of  St  Andrews  and  Edinburgh,  he  was  appointed 
in  1745  Chaplain  to  the  Black  Watch,  being  present  at  the  battle 
of  Fontenoy,  and,  according  to  legend,  leading  the  regiment  into 
action,  drawn  broadsword  in  hand.  In  1757  he  succeeded  Hume 
in  the  Librarianship  of  the  Advocates'  Library,  which  he  held  for 
less  than  a  year.  In  1759  he  became  Professor  of  Natural 
Philosophy  in  Edinburgh  University,  and  in  1764  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  chair  of  moral  philosophy.  He  contrived,  while 
retaining  his  chair,  to  engage  in  several  controversies,  undertake 
the  tuition  of  noblemen's  sons,  and  perform  various  Government 
services,  involving  trips  on  the  Continent  and  to  Philadelphia. 
He  resigned  his  Professorship  in  1785,  and  died  in  1816.  His 
works  include  Essay  on  Civil  Society  (1766),  Institutes  of  Moral 
Philosophy  (1772),  Principles  of  Moral  and  Political  Science  (1792). 


INTRODUCTION  19 

lack  of  originality  as  Beattie's.  He  himself  de- 
scribes his  Principles  of  Moral  and  Political  Science 
as  "  much  of  what  everybody  knows  about  mind." 
At  the  same  time,  it  must  be  remembered  that  it 
was  he  who  promulgated  the  "  perf ectibilianism  " 
which  had  a  considerable  vogue  at  the  time  as  an 
ethical  theory. 

Stewart  ^  gave  a  very  clear  and  scholarly  re- 
statement of  the  principles  of  the  Common-Sense 
Philosophy.  A  man  of  great  erudition  and  much 
personal  charm,  and  easily  the  foremost  philosopher 
of  the  day  in  Britain,  he  did  more  than  anyone  else 
not  merely  to  popularise  that  philosophy,  but  to 
secure  for  it  the  respectful,  and,  in  some  cases,  the 
admiring,  attention  of  other  philosophers.  His  re- 
chauffe of  Reid  is  often  overburdened  with  illustra- 
tion and  analogy.  But  there  are  points  on  which 
he  states  the  common  yiews  of  the  school  in  a  more 

^  Dugald  Stewart  was  born  in  1753  at  Edinburgh,  where  his 
father  was  Professor  of  Mathematics.  In  1765  he  entered  the 
University,  became  a  good  mathematician,  and  came  under  the 
influence  of  Adam  Ferguson.  Ferguson  had  warmly  welcomed 
Reid's  Inquiry,  and  thus  from  the  beginning  Stewart  was  brought 
to  regard  Reid  as  the  chief  authority  in  philosophy.  In  1771 
he  went  to  Glasgow  and  attended  Reid's  lectures.  The  next 
session  saw  him  again  in  Edinburgh,  taking  charge  of  his  father's 
mathematical  classes.  In  1785  he  was  transferred  to  the  chair 
of  moral  philosophy.  He  rapidly  acquired  great  influence 
both  in  the  general  society  of  Edinburgh,  and  in  the  philosophical 
world.  James  Mill  says  that  neither  Pitt  nor  Fox  was  nearly 
so  eloquent.  He  was  a  proHfic  writer,  beginning  with  the 
Elements  of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,  the  first  volume 
of  which  was  published  in  1792,  and  ending  with  the  Philosophy 
of  the  Active  and  Moral  Powers  of  Man  in  1828.  He  retired  from 
the  active  duties  of  the  chair  in  1809  ;  and  thenceforward,  till 
his  death  in  1828,  occupied  himself  with  literary  work. 


20     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

systematic  and  thorough  way  than  Reid.  In 
particular  may  be  mentioned  the  sections  on  Taste, 
which  show  aesthetic  appreciation  and  real  origin- 
ality, and  the  chapter  on  the  **  Fundamental  Laws 
of  Human  Belief,"  which  contains  a  fresh  restate- 
ment of  the  '*  principles  of  common  sense." 

Other  representatives  of  the  Philosophy  of  Com- 
mon Sense  are  Campbell  and  Oswald.  George 
Campbell  (1719-1796),  one  of  the  original  members 
of  Reid's  '*  Wise  Club,"  incorporated  his  contribu- 
tions to  the  society  in  his  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric^ 
(1776).  James  Oswald  published  in  1766-1772 
An  Appeal  to  Common  Sense  in  hehalf  of  Religion, 
a  popular  vindication  of  religion  and  morality. 
They  simply  follow  Reid,  and  apply  his  views 
without  making  any  real  contributions  to  the 
Philosophy  of  Common  Sense.  Like  his  contem- 
poraries, Lord  Monboddo  (1714-1799)  was  opposed 
to  the  Locke  -  Berkeley  -  Hume  development  of 
thought,  but  he  did  not  agree  with  Reid  that  its 
sceptical  conclusions  could  be  met  by  an  appeal 
to  common  sense.  In  his  Antient  Metaphysics  he 
advocated  a  "  return  to  Plato  "  as  the  only  means 
of  defeating  scepticism.  Thomas  Brown  (1778- 
1820)  and  Sir  William  Hamilton  (1788-1856)  are 
sometimes  classed  with  the  common-sense  philo- 
sophers ;  but  they  both  abandoned  many  of  its 
most  important  positions.  Brown's  philosophy  has 
interest  now  mainly  as  an  anticipation  of  the  associa- 


INTRODUCTION  21 

tion  psychology,  and  almost  everything  he  added  to 
the  Scottish  philosophy  was  inconsistent  with  it. 
Sir  William  Hamilton  was  much  influenced  by 
German  philosophy,  especially  that  of  Kant.  His 
"  Natural  Realism  "  is  a  strange  mixture  of  Reid  and 
Kant,  and  he  should  not  be  regarded  as  a  repre- 
sentative of  the  Philosophy  of  Common  Sense. 

In  Reid's  followers  the  weaknesses  and  defects 
of  the  Scottish  philosophy  emerge  with  special 
clearness,  but  even  in  Reid  himself  they  are 
sufficiently  noticeable.  As  they  are  so  obvious,  it 
is  the  less  necessary  to  labour  them.  But  three  or 
four  of  them  may  be  simply  mentioned.  The 
Scottish  philosophers  are  apt  to  turn,  in  difficulties, 
to  vulgar,  uncritical  common  sense.  They  are  apt 
to  set  up  an  opposition  between  philosophy  and 
common  sense,  and  to  appeal  from  the  verdict  of 
philosophy  to  the  bar  of  common  sense.  /  They 
are  apt  to  regard  as  the  principles  of  common  sense 
simply  those  principles  which  to  them  seem  to  be 
self-evident,  j  Again,  they  are  too  ready  to  acquiesce 
in  the  ultimate  inexplicability  of  their  principles. 
No  attempt  is  made  to  prove  or  deduce  the  system 
of  natural  judgments.  There  seems  to  be  no  reason 
why  there  should  be  so  many  and  no  more.  In  the 
works  of  all  the  representatives  of  the  school,  again 
and  again  one  meets  with  assertions  of  the  final 
inability  of  philosophy  to  explain  the  why  and 
wherefore  of  things.     Further,  they  are  very  care- 


22     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

less  in  the  use  of  terms.  While  it  is  of  funda- 
mental importance  for  the  school  to  distinguish 
between  perception  and  sensation,  and  while  every 
one  of  the  writers  does  distinguish  between  them 
officially,  they  often  use  the  terms  indiscriminately 
and  ambiguously.  Perception  and  conception  are 
often  confused,  and  also  conception  and  imagina- 
tion. The  school  does  have  a  definite  terminology, 
but  too  often  it  uses  its  terms  loosely. 

The  historical  significance  of  the  Philosophy  of 
Common  Sense  is  considerable.  In  England  and 
Germany  it  has  never  been  much  appreciated,  but 
in  France  it  has  exercised  a  great  influence.  Royer- 
CoUard  (1763-1845)  introduced  it  to  his  country- 
men, and,  through  his  great  pupil  Victor  Cousin 
(1792-1867),  made  it  the  greatest  power  in  the 
French  philosophy  of  the  period.  Cousin's  work 
was  supported  by  Jouffroy  (1796-1842),  who  trans- 
lated Reid's  works  into  French.  For  half  a  century 
the  Philosophy  of  Common  Sense  was  the  dominant 
philosophy  in  the  American  Universities,  and  it 
is  to  the  Scottish  President  of  an  American  College 
that  we  owe  the  most  comprehensive  study  of  it. 
In  recent  years  in  France  there  has  been  a  re- 
crudescence of  interest  in  the  Scottish  philosophy, 
an  interest  which  has  extended  to  the  writings  of 
Professor  S.  S.  Laurie,  who,  in  several  able  works, 
attempted  what  amounts  to  a  critical  reconstruction 
of  the  traditional  Scottish  Natural  Realism. 


INTRODUCTION  23 

The  selections  in  this  volume  are  reprinted  from 
the  following  editions  : — 

Reid's  Works,  edited  by  Sir  William  Hamilton, 
sixth  edition,  1863. 

Beattie's  Essay  on  the  Nature  and  Immutability 
of  Truth,  seventh  edition,  1807. 

Ferguson's  Principles  of  Moral  and  Political 
Science,  1792. 

Stewart's  Collected  Works,  edited  by  Sir  William 
Hamilton,  1854-1858. 

The  following  books  may  be  consulted  : — 

J.    M'Cosh,    The   Scottish    Philosophy,    London, 

1875. 

A.  S.  Pringle  -  Pattison,  Scottish  Philosophy, 
fourth  edition,  Edinburgh,  1907. 

H.  Laurie,  Scottish  Philosophy  in  its  National 
Development,  Glasgow,  1902. 

A.  Campbell  Fraser,  Thomas  Reid,  Edinburgh, 
1898. 


THOMAS    REID 


THOMAS    REID 

L— INTRODUCTION  TO   THE   PHILO- 
SOPHY  OF  COMMON   SENSE 

§  I.  The  Importance  of  the  Subject,  and  the 
Means  of  Prosecuting  It 

The  fabric  of  the  human  mind  is  curious  and  won- 
derful, as  well  as  that  of  the  human  body.  The 
faculties  of  the  one  are  with  no  less  wisdom  adapted 
to  their  several  ends  than  the  organs  of  the  other. 
Nay,  it  is  reasonable  to  think,  that,  as  the  mind  is  a 
nobler  work  and  of  a  higher  order  than  the  body, 
even  more  of  the  wisdom  and  skill  of  the  divine 
Architect  hath  been  employed  in  its  structure. 
It  is,  therefore,  a  subject  highly  worthy  of  in- 
quiry on  its  own  account,  but  still  more  worthy 
on  account  of  the  extensive  influence  which  the 
knowledge  of  it  hath  over  every  other  branch  of 
science. 

In  the  arts  and  sciences  which  have  least  con- 
nection with  the  mind,  its  faculties  are  the  engines 
which  we  must  employ  ;  and  the  better  we  under- 
stand   their    nature    and    use,    their    defects    and 

27 


28     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

disorders,  the  more  skilfully  we  shall  apply  them, 
and  with  the  greater  success.  But  in  the  noblest 
arts,  the  mind  is  also  the  subject  upon  which  we 
operate.  The  painter,  the  poet,  the  actor,  the 
orator,  the  moralist,  and  the  statesman,  attempt 
to  operate  upon  the  mind  in  different  ways,  and  for 
different  ends  ;  and  they  succeed  according  as  they 
touch  properly  the  strings  of  the  human  frame. 
Nor  can  their  several  arts  ever  stand  on  a  solid 
foundation,  or  rise  to  the  dignity  of  science,  until 
they  are  built  on  the  principles  of  the  human 
constitution. 

Wise  men  now  agree,  or  ought  to  agree,  in  this, 
that  there  is  but  one  way  to  the  knowledge  of 
nature's  works — the  way  of  observation  and  experi- 
ment. By  our  constitution,  we  have  a  strong 
propensity  to  trace  particular  facts  and  observa- 
tions to  general  rules,  and  to  apply  such  general 
rules  to  account  for  other  effects,  or  to  direct  us 
in  the  production  of  them.  This  procedure  of  the 
understanding  is  familiar  to  every  human  creature 
in  the  common  affairs  of  life,  and  it  is  the  only 
one  by  which  any  real  discovery  in  philosophy  can 
be  made. 

The  man  who  first  discovered  that  cold  freezes 
water,  and  that  heat  turns  it  into  vapour,  pro- 
ceeded on  the  same  general  principles,  and  in  the 
same  method  by  which  Newton  discovered  the  law 
of  gravitation   and   the   properties   of  light.     His 


REID  29 

regulcB  philosophandi  are  maxims  of  common  sense, 
and  are  practised  every  day  in  common  life  ;  and 
he  who  philosophizes  by  other  rules,  either  con- 
cerning the  material  system  or  concerning  the  mind, 
mistakes  his  aim. 

Conjectures  and  theories  are  the  creatures  of 
men,  and  will  always  be  found  very  unlike  the 
creatures  of  God.  If  we  would  know  the  works 
of  God,  we  must  consult  themselves  with  attention 
and  humility,  without  daring  to  add  anything  of 
ours  to  what  they  declare.  A  just  interpretation 
of  nature  is  the  only  sound  and  orthodox  philo- 
sophy :  whatever  we  add  of  our  own  is  apocryphal, 
and  of  no  authority. 

All  our  curious  theories  of  the  formation  of  the 
earth,  of  the  generation  of  animals,  of  the  origin  of 
natural  and  moral  evil,  so  far  as  they  go  beyond  a 
just  induction  from  facts,  are  vanity  and  folly,  no 
less  than  the  Vortices  of  Des  Cartes,  or  the  Archaeus 
of  Paracelsus.  Perhaps  the  philosophy  of  the  mind 
hath  been  no  less  adulterated  by  theories,  than 
that  of  the  material  system.  The  theory  of  Ideas 
is  indeed  very  ancient,  and  hath  been  very  univer- 
sally received  ;  but,  as  neither  of  these  titles  can 
give  it  authenticity,  they  ought  not  to  screen  it 
from  a  free  and  candid  examination  ;  especially 
in  this  age,  when  it  hath  produced  a  system  of 
scepticism  that  seems  to  triumph  over  all  science, 
and  even  over  the  dictates  of  common  sense. 


30     PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

All  that  we  know  of  the  body,  is  owing  to  ana- 
tomical dissection  and  observation,  and  it  must  be 
by  an  anatomy  of  the  mind  that  we  can  discover  its 
powers  and  principles. 

§  2.  The  Impediments  to  our  Knowledge 
OF  THE  Mind 

But  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  this  kind  of 
anatomy  is  much  more  difficult  than  the  other ; 
and,  therefore,  it  needs  not  seem  strange  that  man- 
kind have  made  less  progress  in  it.  To  attend 
accurately  to  the  operations  of  our  minds,  and  make 
them  an  object  of  thought,  is  no  easy  matter  even 
to  the  contemplative,  and  to  the  bulk  of  mankind 
is  next  to  impossible. 

An  anatomist  who  hath  happy  opportunities, 
may  have  access  to  examine  with  his  own  eyes,  and 
with  equal  accuracy,  bodies  of  all  different  ages, 
sexes,  and  conditions  ;  so  that  what  is  defective, 
obscure,  or  preternatural  in  one,  may  be  discerned 
clearly  and  in  its  most  perfect  state  in  another. 
But  the  anatomist  of  the  mind  cannot  have  the 
same  advantage.  It  is  his  own  mind  only  that  he 
can  examine  with  any  degree  of  accuracy  and 
distinctness.  This  is  the  only  subject  he  can  look 
into.  He  may,  from  outward  signs,  collect  the 
operations  of  other  minds  ;  but  these  signs  are  for 
the  most  part  ambiguous,  and  must  be  interpreted 
by  what  he  perceives  within  himself. 


REID  31 

So  that,  if  a  philosopher  could  delineate  to  us, 
distinctly  and  methodically,  all  the  operations  of 
the  thinking  principle  within  him,  which  no  man 
was  ever  able  to  do,  this  would  be  only  the  anatomy 
of  one  particular  subject ;  which  would  be  both  de- 
ficient and  erroneous,  if  applied  to  human  nature 
in  general.  For  a  little  reflection  may  satisfy  us, 
that  the  difference  of  minds  is  greater  than  that  of 
any  other  beings  which  we  consider  as  of  the  same 
species. 

Of  the  various  powers  and  faculties  we  possess, 
there  are  some  which  nature  seems  both  to  have 
planted  and  reared,  so  as  to  have  left  nothing  to 
human  industry.  Such  are  the  powers  which  we 
have  in  common  with  the  brutes,  and  which  are 
necessary  to  the  preservation  of  the  individual,  or 
the  continuance  of  the  kind.  There  are  other 
powers,  of  which  nature  hath  only  planted  the  seeds 
in  our  minds,  but  hath  left  the  rearing  of  them  to 
human  culture.  It  is  by  the  proper  culture  of  these 
that  we  are  capable  of  all  those  improvements  in 
intellectuals,  in  taste,  and  in  morals,  which  exalt 
and  dignify  human  nature ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  neglect  or  perversion  of  them  makes  its  degener- 
acy and  corruption. 

The  two-legged  animal  that  eats  of  nature's 
dainties,  what  his  taste  or  appetite  craves,  and 
satisfies  his  thirst  at  the  crystal  fountain,  who 
propagates  his  kind  as  occasion  and  lust  prompt. 


32     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

repels  injuries,  and  takes  alternate  labour  and 
repose,  is,  like  a  tree  in  the  forest,  purely  of  nature's 
growth.  But  this  same  savage  hath  within  him 
the  seeds  of  the  logician,  the  man  of  taste  and 
breeding,  the  orator,  the  statesman,  the  man  of 
virtue,  and  the  saint ;  which  seeds,  though  planted 
in  his  mind  by  nature,  yet,  through  want  of  culture 
and  exercise,  must  lie  for  ever  buried,  and  be 
hardly  perceivable  by  himself  or  by  others. 

The  lowest  degree  of  social  life  will  bring  to  light 
some  of  those  principles  which  lay  hid  in  the  savage 
state  ;  and,  according  to  his  training,  and  company, 
and  manner  of  life,  some  of  them,  either  by  their 
native  vigour,  or  by  the  force  of  culture,  will  thrive 
and  grow  up  to  great  perfection,  others  will  be 
strangely  perverted  from  their  natural  form,  and 
others  checked,  or  perhaps  quite  eradicated. 

This  makes  human  nature  so  various  and  multi- 
form in  the  individuals  that  partake  of  it,  that,  in 
point  of  morals  and  intellectual  endowments,  it 
fills  up  all  that  gap  which  we  conceive  to  be  between 
brutes  and  devils  below,  and  the  celestial  orders 
above  ;  and  such  a  prodigious  diversity  of  minds 
must  make  it  extremely  difficult  to  discover  the 
common  principles  of  the  species. 

The  language  of  philosophers,  with  regard  to  the 
original  faculties  of  the  mind,  is  so  adapted  to  the 
prevailing  system,  that  it  cannot  fit  any  other  ;  like 
a  coat  that  fits  the  man  for  whom  it  was  made. 


REID  33 

and  shews  him  to  advantage,  which  yet  will  sit 
very  awkward  upon  one  of  a  different  make, 
although  perhaps  as  handsome  and  as  well  pro- 
portioned. It  is  hardly  possible  to  make  any 
innovation  in  our  philosophy  concerning  the  mind 
and  its  operations,  without  using  new  words  and 
phrases,  or  giving  a  different  meaning  to  those  that 
are  received — a  liberty  which,  even  when  necessary, 
creates  prejudice  and  misconstruction,  and  which 
must  wait  the  sanction  of  time  to  authorize  it ;  for 
innovations  in  language,  like  those  in  religion  and 
government,  are  always  suspected  and  disliked  by 
the  many,  till  use  hath  made  them  familiar,  and  pre- 
scription hath  given  them  a  title. 

If  the  original  perceptions  and  notions  of  the 
mind  were  to  make  their  appearance  single  and 
unmixed,  as  we  first  received  them  from  the  hand 
of  nature,  one  accustomed  to  reflection  would  have 
less  difficulty  in  tracing  them ;  but  before  we  are 
capable  of  reflection,  they  are  so  mixed,  compounded, 
and  decompounded,  by  habits,  associations,  and 
abstractions,  that  it  is  hard  to  know  what  they  were 
originally.  The  mind  may,  in  this  respect,  be 
compared  to  an  apothecary  or  a  chemist,  whose 
materials  indeed  are  furnished  by  nature ;  but, 
for  the  purposes  of  his  art,  he  mixes,  compounds, 
dissolves,  evaporates,  and  sublimes  them,  till  they 
put  on  a  quite  different  appearance ;  so  that  it  is 
very  difficult  to  know  what  they  were  at  first,  and 

3 


34    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

much  more  to  bring  them  back  to  their  original 
and  natural  form.  And  this  work  of  the  mind  is 
not  carried  on  by  deliberate  acts  of  mature  reason, 
which  we  might  recollect,  but  by  means  of  instincts, 
(/  habits,  associations,  and  other  principles,  which 
operate  before  we  come  to  the  use  of  reason  ;  so 
that  it  is  extremely  difficult  for  the  mind  to  return 
upon  its  own  footsteps,  and  trace  back  those 
operations  which  have  employed  it  since  it  first 
began  to  think  and  to  act. 

Could  we  obtain  a  distinct  and  full  history  of  all 
that  hath  past  in  the  mind  of  a  child,  from  the 
beginning  of  life  and  sensation,  till  it  grows  up  to 
the  use  of  reason — how  its  infant  faculties  began  to 
work,  and  how  they  brought  forth  and  ripened 
all  the  various  notions,  opinions,  and  sentiments 
which  we  find  in  ourselves  when  we  come  to  be 
capable  of  reflection — this  would  be  a  treasure 
of  natural  history,  which  would  probably  give 
more  light  into  the  human  faculties,  than  all  the 
systems  of  philosophers  about  them  since  the 
beginning  of  the  world.  But  it  is  in  vain  to  wish 
for  what  nature  has  not  put  within  the  reach  of  our 
power.  Reflection,  the  only  instrument  by  which 
we  can  discern  the  powers  of  the  mind,  comes  too 
late  to  observe  the  progress  of  nature,  in  raising 
them  from  their  infancy  to  perfection. 

It  must  therefore  require  great  caution,  and  great 
application  of  mind,  for  a  man  that  is  grown  up 


REID  35 

in  all  the  prejudices  of  education,  fashion,  and 
philosophy,  to  unravel  his  notions  and  opinions, 
till  he  find  out  the  simple  and  original  principles 
of  his  constitution,  of  which  no  account  can  be 
given  but  the  will  of  our  Maker.  This  may  be  truly 
called  an  analysis  of  the  human  faculties  ;  and,  till 
this  is  performed,  it  is  in  vain  we  expect  any  just 
system  of  the  mind — that  is,  an  enumeration  of 
the  original  powers  and  laws  of  our  constitution, 
and  an  explication  from  them  of  the  various 
phaenomena  of  human  nature.^ 

Des  Cartes,  Malebranche,  and  Locke,  have  all 
employed  their  genius  and  skill  to  prove  the  exist- 
ence of  a  material  world ;  and  with  very  bad 
success.  Poor  untaught  mortals  believe  undoubt- 
edly that  there  is  a  sun,  moon,  and  stars  ;  an  earth, 
which  we  inhabit ;  country,  friends,  and  relations, 
which  we  enjoy ;  land,  houses,  and  moveables, 
which  we  possess.  But  philosophers,  pitying  the 
credulity  of  the  vulgar,  resolve  to  have  no  faith 
but  what  is  founded  upon  reason.  They  apply  to 
philosophy  to  furnish  them  with  reasons  for  the 
belief  of  those  things  which  all  mankind  have 
believed,  without  being  able  to  give  any  reason  for 
it.  And  surely  one  would  expect,  that,  in  matters 
of  such  importance,  the  proof  would  not  be  difficult  : 
but  it  is  the  most  difficult  thing  in  the  world.  For 
these  three  great  men,   with  the  best  good  will, 

^  "  Inquiry  into  the  Human  Mind,"  Works,  vol.  i.  pp.  97-99. 


36    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

have  not  been  able,  from  all  the  treasures  of  philo- 
sophy, to  draw  one  argument  that  is  fit  to  convince 
a  man  that  can  reason,  of  the  existence  of  any  one 
thing  without  him.  Admired  Philosophy !  daughter 
of  light !  parent  of  knowledge  and  wisdom  !  if  thou 
art  she,  surely  thou  hast  not  yet  arisen  upon  the 
human  mind,  nor  blessed  us  with  more  of  thy  rays 
than  are  sufficient  to  shed  a  darkness  visible  upon 
the  human  faculties,  and  to  disturb  that  repose 
and  security  which  happier  mortals  enjoy,  who 
never  approached  thine  altar,  nor  felt  thine  in- 
fluence !  But  if,  indeed,  thou  hast  not  power  to 
dispel  these  clouds  and  phantoms  which  thou  hast 
discovered  or  created,  withdraw  this  penurious  and 
malignant  ray  ;  I  despise  Philosophy,  and  renounce 
its  guidance — let  my  soul  dwell  with  Common  Sense.  ^ 
It  may  be  observed,  that  the  defects  and  blem- 
ishes in  the  received  philosophy  concerning  the 
mind,  which  have  most  exposed  it  to  the  contempt 
and  ridicule  of  sensible  men,  have  chiefly  been 
owing  to  this — that  the  votaries  of  this  Philosophy, 
from  a  natural  prejudice  in  her  favour,  have  en- 
deavoured to  extend  her  jurisdiction  beyond  its 
just  limits,  and  to  call  to  her  bar  the  dictates  of 
Common  Sense.  But  these  decline  this  juris- 
diction ;  they  disdain  the  trial  of  reasoning,  and 
disown  its  authority  ;  they  neither  claim  its  aid, 
nor  dread  its  attacks. 

*  Ibid.,  pp.  loo-ioi. 


REID  37 

In  this  unequal  contest  betwixt  Common  Sense 
and  Philosophy,  the  latter  will  always  come  off 
both  with  dishonour  and  loss  ;  nor  can  she  ever 
thrive  till  this  rivalship  is  dropt,  these  encroach- 
ments given  up,  and  a  cordial  friendship  restored  : 
for,  in  reality,  Common  Sense  holds  nothing  of 
Philosophy,  nor  needs  her  aid.  But,  on  the  other 
hand.  Philosophy  (if  I  may  be  permitted  to  change 
the  metaphor)  has  no  other  root  but  the  principles 
of  Common  Sense  ;  it  grows  out  of  them,  and  draws 
its  nourishment  from  them.^ 

II.— ANALYSIS  OF  A  TYPICAL  SENSATION 

§  I.  The  Sensation  considered  abstractly 

Let  us  now  attend  carefully  to  what  the  mind 
is  conscious  of  when  we  smell  a  rose  or  a  lily  ;  and, 
since  our  language  affords  no  other  name  for  this 
sensation,  we  shall  call  it  a  smell  or  odour,  carefully 
excluding  from  the  meaning  of  those  names  every- 
thing but  the  sensation  itself,  at  least  till  we  have 
examined  it. 

Suppose  a  person  who  never  had  this  sense  before, 
to  receive  it  all  at  once,  and  to  smell  a  rose — can 
he  perceive  any  similitude  or  agreement  between 
the  smeU  and  the  rose  ?  or  indeed  between  it 
and  any  other  object  whatsoever  ?  Certainly  he 
cannot.     He  finds  himself  affected  in  a  new  way, 

*  Ibid.,  p.  loi. 


38    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

he  knows  not  why  or  from  what  cause.  Like  a  man 
that  feels  some  pain  or  pleasure  formerly  unknown 
to  him,  he  is  conscious  that  he  is  not  the  caaise  of  it 
himself  ;  but  cannot,  from  the  nature  of  the  thing, 
determine  whether  it  is  caused  by  body  or  spirit, 
by  something  near,  or  by  something  at  a  distance. 
It  has  no  similitude  to  anything  else,  so  as  to  admit 
of  a  comparison  ;  and,  therefore,  he  can  conclude 
nothing  from  it,  unless,  perhaps,  that  there  must  be 
some  unknown  cause  of  it. 

It  is  evidently  ridiculous  to  ascribe  to  it  figure, 
colour,  extension,  or  any  other  quality  of  bodies. 
He  cannot  give  it  a  place,  any  more  than  he  can 
give  a  place  to  melancholy  or  joy  ;  nor  can  he  con- 
ceive it  to  have  any  existence,  but  when  it  is  smelled. 
So  that  it  appears  to  be  a  simple  and  original 
affection  or  feeling  of  the  mind,  altogether  inex- 
plicable and  unaccountable.  It  is,  indeed,  impos- 
sible that  it  can  be  in  any  body  :  it  is  a  sensation, 
and  a  sensation  can  only  be  in  a  sentient  thing. 

The  various  odours  have  each  their  different 
degrees  of  strength  or  weakness.  Most  of  them  are 
agreeable  or  disagreeable  ;  and  frequently  those 
that  are  agreeable  when  weak,  are  disagreeable 
when  stronger.  When  we  compare  different  smells 
together,  we  can  perceive  very  few  resemblances 
or  contrarieties,  or,  indeed,  relations  of  any  kind 
between  them.  They  are  all  so  simple  in  them- 
selves, and  so  different  from  each  other,  that  it  is 


REID  39 

hardly  possible  to  divide  them  into  genera  and 
species.  Most  of  the  names  we  give  them  are  parti- 
cular ;  as  the  smell  of  a  rose,  of  a  jessamine,  and 
the  like.  Yet  there  are  some  general  names — as 
sweet,  stinking,  musty,  putrid,  cadaverous,  aromatic. 
Some  of  them  seem  to  refresh  and  animate  the 
mind,  others  to  deaden  and  depress  it. 

§  2.  Sensation  and  Remembrance,  Natural 
Principles  of  Belief 

So  far  we  have  considered  this  sensation  ab- 
stractly. Let  us  next  compare  it  with  other  things 
to  which  it  bears  some  relation.  And  first  I  shall 
compare  this  sensation  with  the  remembrance,  and 
the  imagination  of  it. 

I  can  think  of  the  smell  of  a  rose  when  I  do  not 
smell  it ;  and  it  is  possible  that  when  I  think  of  it, 
there  is  neither  rose  nor  smell  anywhere  existing. 
But  when  I  smell  it,  I  am  necessarily  determined  to 
believe  that  the  sensation  really  exists.  This  is 
common  to  all  sensations,  that,  as  they  cannot  exist 
but  in  being  perceived,  so  they  cannot  be  perceived 
but  they  must  exist.  I  could  as  easily  doubt  of  my 
own  existence,  as  of  the  existence  of  my  sensations. 
Even  those  profound  philosophers  who  have  en- 
deavoured to  disprove  their  own  existence,  have  yet 
left  their  sensations  to  stand  upon  their  own  bottom, 
stript  of  a  subject,  rather  than  call  in  question  ^the 
reality  of  their  existence. 


40    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

Here,  then,  a  sensation,  a  smell  for  instance, 
may  be  presented  to  the  mind  three  different  ways  : 
it  may  be  smelled,  it  may  be  remembered,  it  may  be 
imagined  or  thought  of.  In  the  first  case,  it  is 
necessarily  accompanied  with  a  belief  of  its  present 
existence ;  in  the  second,  it  is  necessarily  accom- 
panied with  a  belief  of  its  past  existence ;  and  in 
the  last,  it  is  not  accompanied  with  belief  at  all, 
but  is  what  the  logicians  call  a  simple  apprehension. 

Why  sensation  should  compel  our  belief  of  the 
present  existence  of  the  thing,  memory  a  belief  of 
its  past  existence,  and  imagination  no  belief  at  all, 
I  believe  no  philosopher  can  give  a  shadow  of  reason, 
but  that  such  is  the  nature  of  these  operations  : 
they  are  all  simple  and  original,  and  therefore 
inexplicable  acts  of  the  mind. 

Suppose  that  once,  and  only  once,  I  smelled  a 
tuberose  in  a  certain  room,  where  it  grew  in  a  pot, 
and  gave  a  very  grateful  perfume.  Next  day  I 
relate  what  I  saw  and  smelled.  When  I  attend  as 
carefully  as  I  can  to  what  passes  in  my  mind  in  this 
case,  it  appears  evident  that  the  very  thing  I  saw 
yesterday,  and  the  fragrance  I  smelled,  are  now 
the  immediate  objects  of  my  mind,  when  I  remember 
it.  Further,  I  can  imagine  this  pot  and  flower 
transported  to  the  room  where  I  now  sit,  and 
yielding  the  same  perfume.  Here  likewise  it 
appears,  that  the  individual  thing  which  I  saw  and 
smelled,  is  the  object  of  my  imagination. 


REID  41 

Philosophers  indeed  tell  me,  that  the  immediate 
object  of  my  memory  and  imagination  in  this  case, 
is  not  the  past  sensation,  but  an  idea  of  it,  an  image, 
phantasm,  or  species,  of  the  odour  I  smelled  :  that 
this  idea  now  exists  in  my  mind,  or  in  my  sensorium ; 
and  the  mind,  contemplating  this  present  idea, 
finds  it  a  representation  of  what  is  past,  or  of  what 
may  exist;  and  accordingly  calls  it  memory,  or 
imagination.  This  is  the  doctrine  of  the  ideal 
philosophy  ;  which  we  shall  not  now  examine,  that 
we  may  not  interrupt  the  thread  of  the  present  in- 
vestigation. Upon  the  strictest  attention,  memory 
appears  to  me  to  have  things  that  are  past,  and  not 
present  ideas,  for  its  object.  We  shall  afterwards 
examine  this  system  of  ideas,  and  endeavour 
to  make  it  appear,  that  no  soHd  proof  has  ever 
been  advanced  of  the  existence  of  ideas  ;  that  they 
are  a  mere  fiction  and  hypothesis,  contrived  to 
solve  the  phaenomena  of  the  human  understand- 
ing ;  that  they  do  not  at  all  answer  this  end  ;  and 
that  this  hypothesis  of  ideas  or  images  of  things 
in  the  mind,  or  in  the  sensorium,  is  the  parent  of 
those  many  paradoxes  so  shocking  to  common 
sense,  and  of  that  scepticism  which  disgrace  our 
philosophy  of  the  mind,  and  have  brought  upon  it 
the  ridicule  and  contempt  of  sensible  men. 

In  the  meantime,  I  beg  leave  to  think,  with  the 
vulgar,  that,  when  I  remember  the  smell  of  the 
tuberose,  that  very  sensation  which  I  had  yesterday, 


42     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

and  which  has  now  no  more  any  existence,  is  the 
immediate  object  of  my  memory ;  and  when  I 
imagine  it  present,  the  sensation  itself,  and  not  any 
idea  of  it,  is  the  object  of  my  imagination.  But, 
though  the  object  of  my  sensation,  memory,  and 
imagination,  be  in  this  case  the  same,  yet  these 
acts  or  operations  of  the  mind  are  as  different,  and 
as  easily  distinguishable,  as  smell,  taste,  and  sound. 
I  am  conscious  of  a  difference  in  kind  between 
sensation  and  memory,  and  between  both  and 
imagination.  I  find  this  also,  that  the  sensation 
compels  my  belief  of  the  present  existence  of  the 
smell,  and  memory  my  belief  of  its  past  existence. 
There  is  a  smell,  is  the  immediate  testimony  of 
sense  ;  there  was  a  smell,  is  the  immediate  testimony 
of  memory.  If  you  ask  me,  why  I  believe  that  the 
smell  exists,  I  can  give  no  other  reason,  nor  shall 
ever  be  able  to  give  any  other,  than  that  I  smell  it. 
If  you  ask,  why  I  believe  that  it  existed  yesterday, 
I  can  give  no  other  reason  but  that  I  remember  it. 

Sensation  and  memory,  therefore,  are  simple, 
original,  and  perfectly  distinct  operations  of  the 
mind,  and  both  of  them  are  original  principles  of 
belief.  Imagination  is  distinct  from  both,  but  is  no 
principle  of  belief.  Sensation  implies  the  present 
existence  of  its  object,  memory  its  past  existence, 
but  imagination  views  its  object  naked,  and  without 
any  belief  of  its  existence  or  non-existence,  and  is 
therefore  what  the  schools  call  Simple  Apprehension. 


REID  43 

§  3.  Judgment  and  Belief  in  some  Cases  precede 
Simple  Apprehension 

But  here,  again,  the  ideal  system  comes  in  our 
way  :  it  teaches  us  that  the  first  operation  of  the 
mind  about  its  ideas,  is  simple  apprehension — that 
is,  the  bare  conception  of  a  thing  without  any 
belief  about  it  :  and  that,  after  we  have  got  simple 
apprehensions,  by  comparing  them  together,  we 
perceive  agreements  or  disagreements  between 
them ;  and  that  this  perception  of  the  agreement 
or  disagreement  of  ideas  is  all  that  we  call  belief, 
judgment,  or  knowledge.  Now,  this  appears  to 
me  to  be  all  fiction,  without  any  foundation  in 
nature  ;  for  it  is  acknowledged  by  all,  that  sensation 
must  go  before  memory  and  imagination ;  and 
hence  it  necessarily  follows,  that  apprehension, 
accompanied  with  belief  and  knowledge,  must  go 
before  simple  apprehension,  at  least  in  the  matters 
we  are  now  speaking  of.  So  that  here,  instead  of 
saying  that  the  belief  or  knowledge  is  got  by  putting 
together  and  comparing  the  simple  apprehensions, 
we  ought  rather  to  say  that  the  simple  apprehension 
is  performed  by  resolving  and  analysing  a  natural 
and  original  judgment.  And  it  is  with  the  opera- 
tions of  the  mind,  in  this  case,  as  with  natural 
bodies,  which  are,  indeed,  compounded  of  simple 
principles  or  elements.  Nature  does  not  exhibit 
these  elements  separate,  to  be  compounded  by  us  ; 


44     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

she  exhibits  them  mixed  and  compounded  in 
concrete  bodies,  and  it  is  only  by  art  and  chemical 
analysis  that  they  can  be  separated. 

§  4.  Two  Theories  of  the  Nature  of  Belief 
Refuted — Conclusions  from  what  hath 
been  said 

But  what  is  this  belief  or  knowledge  which  accom- 
panies sensation  and  memory  ?  Every  man  knows 
what  it  is,  but  no  man  can  define  it.  Does  any  man 
pretend  to  define  sensation,  or  to  define  conscious- 
ness ?  It  is  happy,  indeed,  that  no  man  does. 
And  if  no  philosopher  had  endeavoured  to  define 
and  explain  belief,  some  paradoxes  in  philosophy, 
more  incredible  than  ever  were  brought  forth  by 
the  most  abject  superstition  or  the  most  frantic 
enthusiasm,  had  never  seen  the  light.  Of  this  kind 
surely  is  that  modern  discovery  of  the  ideal  philo- 
sophy, that  sensation,  memory,  belief,  and  imagina- 
tion, when  they  have  the  same  object,  are  only 
different  degrees  of  strength  and  vivacity  in  the 
idea.  Suppose  the  idea  to  be  that  of  a  future  state 
after  death :  one  man  believes  it  firmly — this  means 
no  more  than  that  he  hath  a  strong  and  lively  idea 
of  it ;  another  neither  believes  nor  disbelieves — 
that  is,  he  has  a  weak  and  faint  idea.  Suppose, 
now,  a  third  person  believes  firmly  that  there  is  no 
such  thing,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  know  whether  his  idea 
be  faint  or  lively  :  if  it  is  faint,  then  there  may  be  a 


REID  45 

firm  belief  where  the  idea  is  faint ;  if  the  idea  is 
hvely,  then  the  belief  of  a  future  state  and  the  belief 
of  no  future  state  must  be  one  and  the  same.  The 
same  arguments  that  are  used  to  prove  that  belief 
implies  only  a  stronger  idea  of  the  object  than  simple 
apprehension,  might  as  well  be  used  to  prove  that 
love  implies  only  a  stronger  idea  of  the  object  than 
indifference.  And  then  what  shall  we  say  of 
hatred,  which  must  upon  this  hypothesis  be  a  degree 
of  love,  or  a  degree  of  indifference  ?  If  it  should 
be  said,  that  in  love  there  is  something  more  than 
an  idea — to  wit,  an  affection  of  the  mind — may  it 
not  be  said  with  equal  reason,  that  in  belief  there  is 
something  more  than  an  idea — to  wit,  an  assent  or 
persuasion  of  the  mind  ? 

But  perhaps  it  may  be  thought  as  ridiculous  to 
argue  against  this  strange  opinion,  as  to  maintain  it. 
Indeed,  if  a  man  should  maintain  that  a  circle,  a 
square,  and  a  triangle  differ  only  in  magnitude,  and 
not  in  figure,  I  believe  he  would  find  nobody  disposed 
either  to  believe  him  or  to  argue  against  him  ;  and 
yet  I  do  not  think  it  less  shocking  to  common  sense, 
to  maintain  that  sensation,  memory,  and  imagina- 
tion differ  only  in  degree,  and  not  in  kind.  I  know 
it  is  said,  that,  in  a  delirium,  or  in  dreaming,  men 
are  apt  to  mistake  one  for  the  other.  But  does  it 
follow  from  this,  that  men  who  are  neither  dreaming 
nor  in  a  delirium  cannot  distinguish  them  ?  But 
Jiow  does  a  man  know  that  he  is  not  in  a  delirium  ? 


46     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

I  cannot  tell  :  neither  can  I  tell  how  a  man  knows 
that  he  exists.  But,  if  any  man  seriously  doubts 
whether  he  is  in  a  delirium,  I  think  it  highly  pro- 
bable that  he  is,  and  that  it  is  time  to  seek  for  a 
cure,  which  I  am  persuaded  he  will  not  find  in 
the  whole  system  of  logic. 

I  mentioned  before  Locke's  notion  of  belief  or 
knowledge  ;  he  holds  that  it  consists  in  a  perception 
of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  ideas ;  and 
this  he  values  himself  upon  as  a  very  important 
discovery. 

We  shall  have  occasion  afterwards  to  examine 
more  particularly  this  grand  principle  of  Locke's 
philosophy,  and  to  shew  that  it  is  one  of  the  main 
pillars  of  modern  scepticism,  although  he  had  no 
intention  to  make  that  use  of  it.  At  present 
let  us  only  consider  how  it  agrees  with  the  instances 
of  belief  now  under  consideration  ;  and  whether 
it  gives  any  light  to  them.  I  believe  that  the 
sensation  I  have  exists  ;  and  that  the  sensation 
I  remember  does  not  now  exist,  but  did  exist 
yesterday.  Here,  according  to  Locke's  system,  I 
compare  the  idea  of  a  sensation  with  the  ideas  of 
past  and  present  existence  :  at  one  time  I  perceive 
that  this  idea  agrees  with  that  of  present  existence, 
but  disagrees  with  that  of  past  existence  ;  but,  at 
another  time,  it  agrees  with  the  idea  of  past 
existence,  and  disagrees  with  that  of  present  exist- 
ence.    Truly  these  ideas  seem  to  be  very  capri- 


REID  47 

cious  in  their  agreements  and  disagreements. 
Besides,  I  cannot,  for  my  heart,  conceive  what  is 
meant  by  either.  I  say  a  sensation  exists,  and  I 
think  I  understand  clearly  what  I  mean.  But  you 
want  to  make  the  thing  clearer,  and  for  that  end 
tell  me,  that  there  is  an  agreement  between  the 
idea  of  that  sensation  and  the  idea  of  existence.  To 
speak  freely,  this  conveys  to  me  no  light,  but 
darkness  ;  I  can  conceive  no  otherwise  of  it,  than 
as  an  odd  and  obscure  circumlocution.  I  conclude, 
then,  that  the  belief  which  accompanies  sensation 
and  memory,  is  a  simple  act  of  the  mind,  which 
cannot  be  defined.  It  is,  in  this  respect,  like  seeing 
and  hearing,  which  can  never  be  so  defined  as  to  be 
understood  by  those  who  have  not  these  faculties  ; 
and  to  such  as  have  them,  no  definition  can  make 
these  operations  more  clear  than  they  are  already. 
In  like  manner,  every  man  that  has  any  belief 
— and  he  must  be  a  curiosity  that  has  none — 
knows  perfectly  what  belief  is,  but  can  never  de- 
fine or  explain  it.  I  conclude,  also,  that  sensation, 
memory,  and  imagination,  even  where  they  have 
the  same  object,  are  operations  of  a  quite  different 
nature,  and  perfectly  distinguishable  by  those  who 
are  sound  and  sober.  A  man  that  is  in  danger  of 
confounding  them,  is  indeed  to  be  pitied ;  but 
whatever  relief  he  may  find  from  another  art,  he 
can  find  none  from  logic  or  metaphysic.  I  conclude 
further,   that  it  is  no  less  a  part  of  the  human 


48    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

constitution,  to  believe  the  present  existence  of 
our  sensations,  and  to  believe  the  past  existence  of 
what  we  remember,  than  it  is  to  believe  that  twice 
two  make  four.  The  evidence  of  sense,  the  evi- 
dence of  memory,  and  the  evidence  of  the  necessary 
relations  of  things,  are  all  distinct  and  original  kinds 
of  evidence,  equally  grounded  on  our  constitution : 
none  of  them  depends  upon,  or  can  be  resolved  into 
another.  To  reason  against  any  of  these  kinds  of 
evidence  is  absurd;  nay, to  reason  for  them  is  absurd. 
They  are  first  principles  ;  and  such  fall  not  within 
the  province  of  reason,  but  of  common  sense. 

§  5."  Apology  for  Metaphysical  Absurdities — 
Sensation  without  a  Sentient,  a  Conse- 
quence OF  THE  Theory  of  Ideas — Con- 
sequences OF  this  Strange  Opinion 

Having  considered  the  relation  which  the  sensa- 
tion of  smelling  bears  to  the  remembrance  and 
imagination  of  it,  I  proceed  to  consider  what 
relation  it  bears  to  a  mind,  or  sentient  principle. 
It  is  certain,  no  man  can  conceive  or  believe  smelling 
to  exist  of  itself,  without  a  mind,  or  something  that 
has  the  power  of  smelling,  of  which  it  is  called  a 
sensation,  an  operation,  or  feeling.  Yet,  if  any  man 
should  demand  a  proof  that  sensation  cannot  be 
without  a  mind  or  sentient  being,  I  confess  that  I 
can  give  none  ;  and  that  to  pretend  to  prove  it, 
seems  to  me  almost  as  absurd  as  to  deny  it. 


REID  49 

This  might  have  been  said  without  any  apology 
before  the  Treatise  of  Human  Nature  appeared  in 
the  world.  For  till  that  time,  no  man,  as  far  as  I 
know,  ever  thought  either  of  calling  in  question  that 
principle,  or  of  giving  a  reason  for  his  belief  of  it. 
Whether  thinking  beings  were  of  an  ethereal  or 
igneous  nature,  whether  material  or  immaterial,  was 
variously  disputed  ;  but  that  thinking  is  an  opera- 
tion of  some  kind  of  being  or  other,  was  always 
taken  for  granted,  as  a  principle  that  could  not 
possibly  admit  of  doubt. 

However,  since  the  author  above  mentioned,  who 
is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  most  acute  metaphysicians 
that  this  or  any  other  age  hath  produced,  hath 
treated  it  as  a  vulgar  prejudice,  and  maintained 
that  the  mind  is  only  a  succession  of  ideas  and 
impressions  without  any  subject ;  his  opinion, 
however  contrary  to  the  common  apprehensions  of 
mankind,  deserves  respect.  I  beg  therefore,  once 
for  all,  that  no  offence  may  be  taken  at  charging 
this  or  other  metaphysical  notions  with  absurdity, 
or  with  being  contrary  to  the  common  sense  of 
mankind.  No  disparagement  is  meant  to  the  under- 
standings of  the  authors  or  maintainers  of  such 
opinions.  Indeed,  they  commonly  proceed,  not 
from  defect  of  understanding,  but  from  an  excess 
of  refinement;  the  reasoning  that  leads  to  them 
often  gives  new  light  to  the  subject,  and  shews 
real  genius  and  deep  penetration  in  the  author; 

4 


50     PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

and  the  premises  do  more  than  atone  for  the 
conclusion. 

If  there  are  certain  principles,  as  I  think  there  are, 
which  the  constitution  of  our  nature  leads  us  to 
believe,  and  of  which  we  are  under  a  necessity  to 
take  for  granted  in  the  common  concerns  of  life, 
without  being  able  to  give  a  reason  for  them — these 
are  what  we  call  the  principles  of  common  sense  ; 
and  what  is  manifestly  contrary  to  them,  is  what 
we  call  absurd. 

Indeed,  if  it  is  true,  and  to  be  received  as  a 
principle  of  philosophy,  that  sensation  and  thought 
may  be  without  a  thinking  being,  it  must  be 
acknowledged  to  be  the  most  wonderful  discovery 
that  this  or  any  other  age  hath  produced.  The 
received  doctrine  of  ideas  is  the  principle  from  which 
it  is  deduced,  and  of  which  indeed  it  seems  to  be  a 
just  and  natural  consequence.  And  it  is  probable, 
that  it  would  not  have  been  so  late  a  discovery,  but 
that  it  is  so  shocking  and  repugnant  to  the  common 
apprehensions  of  mankind,  that  it  required  an  un- 
common degree  of  philosophical  intrepidity  to  usher 
it  into  the  world.  It  is  a  fundamental  principle  of 
the  ideal  system,  that  every  object  of  thought  must 
be  an  impression  or  an  idea — that  is,  a  faint  copy 
of  some  preceding  impression.  This  is  a  principle 
so  commonly  received,  that  the  author  above 
mentioned,  although  his  whole  system  is  built  upon 
it,  never  offers  the  least  proof  of  it.     It  is  upon  this 


REID  51 

principle,  as  a  fixed  point,  that  he  erects  his  meta- 
physical engines,  to  overturn  heaven  and  earth, 
body  and  spirit.  And,  indeed,  in  my  apprehension, 
it  is  altogether  sufficient  for  the  purpose.  For,  if  im- 
pressions and  ideas  are  the  only  objects  of  thought, 
then  heaven  and  earth,  and  body  and  spirit,  and 
everything  you  please,  must  signify  only  impres- 
sions and  ideas,  or  they  must  be  words  without 
any  meaning.  It  seems,  therefore,  that  this 
notion,  however  strange,  is  closely  connected  with 
the  received  doctrine  of  ideas,  and  we  must 
either  admit  the  conclusion,  or  call  in  question 
the  premises. 

Ideas  seem  to  have  something  in  their  nature 
unfriendly  to  other  existences.  They  were  first 
introduced  into  philosophy,  in  the  humble  character 
of  images  or  representatives  of  things  ;  and  in  this 
character  they  seemed  not  only  to  be  inoffensive, 
but  to  serve  admirably  well  for  explaining  the 
operations  of  the  human  understanding.  But, 
since  men  began  to  reason  clearly  and  distinctly 
about  them,  they  have  by  degrees  supplanted  their 
constituents,  and  undermined  the  existence  of 
everything  but  themselves.  First,  they  discarded 
all  secondary  qualities  of  bodies ;  and  it  was  found 
out  by  their  means,  that  fire  is  not  hot,  nor  snow 
cold,  nor  honey  sweet ;  and,  in  a  word,  that  heat 
and  cold,  sound,  colour,  taste,  and  smell,  are  nothing 
but   ideas   or   impressions.     Bishop    Berkeley   ad- 


52     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

vanced  them  a  step  higher,  and  found  out,  by  just 
reasoning  from  the  same  principles,  that  extension, 
solidity,  space,  figure,  and  body,  are  ideas,  and  that 
there  is  nothing  in  nature  but  ideas  and  spirits. 
But  the  triumph  of  ideas  was  completed  by  the 
Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  which  discards  spirits 
also,  and  leaves  ideas  and  impressions  as  the 
sole  existences  in  the  universe.  What  if,  at  last, 
having  nothing  else  to  contend  with,  they  should 
fall  foul  of  one  another,  and  leave  no  existence  in 
nature  at  all  ?  This  would  surely  bring  philosophy 
into  danger ;  for  what  should  we  have  left  to  talk 
or  to  dispute  about  ? 

However,  hitherto  these  philosophers  acknow- 
ledge the  existence  of  impressions  and  ideas  ;  they 
acknowledge  certain  laws  of  attraction,  or  rules  of 
precedence,  according  to  which,  ideas  and  im- 
pressions range  themselves  in  various  forms,  and 
succeed  one  another  :  but  that  they  should  belong 
to  a  mind,  as  its  proper  goods  and  chattels,  this  they 
have  found  to  be  a  vulgar  error.  These  ideas  are 
as  free  and  independejnt  as  the  birds  of  the  air,  or 
as  Epicurus's  atoms  when  they  pursued  their 
journey  in  the  vast  inane.  Shall  we  conceive  them 
like  the  films  of  things  in  the  Epicurean  system  ? 

Principio  hoc  dico,  rerum  simulacra  vagari, 
Multa  modis  multis,  in  cunctas  undique  parteis 
Tenuia,  quae  facile  inter  se  junguntur  in  auris, 
Obvia  cum  veniunt. — LucR. 


REID  53 

Or  do  they  rather  resemble  Aristotle's  intelligible 
species,  after  they  are  shot  forth  from  the  object, 
and  before  they  have  yet  struck  upon  the  passive 
intellect  ?  But  why  should  we  seek  to  compare 
them  with  anything,  since  there  is  nothing  in  nature 
but  themselves  ?  They  make  up  the  whole  furni- 
ture of  the  universe  ;  starting  into  existence,  or  out 
of  it,  without  any  cause ;  combining  into  parcels, 
which  the  vulgar  call  minds ;  and  succeeding  one 
another  by  fixed  laws,  without  time,  place,  or 
author  of  those  laws. 

Yet,  after  all,  these  self-existent  and  independent 
ideas  look  pitifully  naked  and  destitute,  when  left 
thus  alone  in  the  universe,  and  seem,  upon  the  whole, 
to  be  in  a  worse  condition  than  they  were  before. 
Des  Cartes,  Malebranche,  and  Locke,  as  they  made 
much  use  of  ideas,  treated  them  handsomely,  and 
provided  them  in  decent  accommodation  ;  lodging 
them  either  in  the  pineal  gland,  or  in  the  pure 
intellect,  or  even  in  the  divine  mind.  They  more- 
over clothed  them  with  a  commission,  and  made 
them  representatives  of  things,  which  gave  them 
some  dignity  and  character.  But  the  Treatise  of 
Human  Nature,  though  no  less  indebted  to  them, 
seems  to  have  made  but  a  bad  return,  by  bestow- 
ing upon  them  this  independent  existence ;  since 
thereby  they  are  turned  out  of  house  and  home,  and 
set  adrift  in  the  world,  without  friend  or  connection, 
without  a  rag  to  cover  their  nakedness  ;    and  who 


54     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

knows  but  the  whole  system  of  ideas  may  perish 
by  the  indiscreet  zeal  of  their  friends  to  exalt 
them  ? 

However  this  may  be,  it  is  certainly  a  most 
amazing  discovery  that  thought  and  ideas  may  be 
without  any  thinking  being — a  discovery  big  with 
consequences  which  cannot  easily  be  traced  by 
those  deluded  mortals  who  think  and  reason  in 
the  common  track.  We  were  always  apt  to 
imagine,  that  thought  supposed  a  thinker,  and 
love  a  lover,  and  treason  a  traitor  :  but  this,  it 
seems,  was  all  a  mistake ;  and  it  is  found  out  that 
there  may  be  treason  without  a  traitor,  and  love 
without  a  lover,  laws  without  a  legislator,  and 
punishment  without  a  sufferer,  succession  without 
time,  and  motion  without  anything  moved,  or 
space  in  which  it  may  move  :  or  if,  in  these  cases, 
ideas  are  the  lover,  the  sufferer,  the  traitor,  it  were 
to  be  wished  that  the  author  of  this  discovery  had 
farther  condescended  to  acquaint  us  whether  ideas 
can  converse  together,  and  be  under  obligations 
of  duty  or  gratitude  to  each  other  ;  whether  they 
can  makf  promises  and  enter  into  leagues  and 
covenants,  and  fulfil  or  break  them,  and  be  punished 
for  the  breach.  If  one  set  of  ideas  makes  a  covenant, 
another  breaks  it,  and  a  third  is  punished  for  it, 
there  is  reason  to  think  that  justice  is  no  natural 
virtue  in  this  system. 

It  seemed  very  natural  to  think  that  the  Treatise 


REID  55 

of  Human  Nature  required  an  author,  and  a  very 
ingenious  one  too  ;  but  now  we  learn  that  it  is  only 
a  set  of  ideas  which  came  together  and  arranged 
themselves  by  certain  associations  and  attractions. 

After  all,  this  curious  system  appears  not  to  be 
fitted  to  the  present  state  of  human  nature.  How 
far  it  may  suit  some  choice  spirits,  who  are  refined 
from  the  dregs  of  common  sense,  I  cannot  say.  It 
is  acknowledged,  I  think,  that  even  these  can  enter 
into  this  system  only  in  their  most  speculative 
hours,  when  they  soar  so  high  in  pursuit  of  those 
self-existent  ideas  as  to  lose  sight  of  all  other  things. 
But  when  they  condescend  to  mingle  again  with  the 
human  race,  and  to  converse  with  a  friend,  a  com- 
panion, or  a  fellow-citizen,  the  ideal  system  vanishes  ; 
common  sense,  like  an  irresistible  torrent,  carries 
them  along  ;  and,  in  spite  of  all  their  reasoning  and 
philosophy,  they  believe  their  own  existence,  and 
the  existence  of  other  things. 

Indeed,  it  is  happy  they  do  so  ;  for,  if  they  should 
carry  their  closet  belief  into  the  world,  the  rest 
of  mankind  would  consider  them  as  diseased, 
and  send  them  to  an  infirmary.  Therefore,  as 
Plato  required  certain  previous  qualifications  of 
those  who  entered  his  school,  I  think  it  would  be 
prudent  for  the  doctors  of  this  ideal  philosophy 
to  do  the  same,  and  to  refuse  admittance  to  every 
man  who  is  so  weak  as  to  imagine  that  he  ought  to 
have  the  same  belief  in  solitude  and  in  company. 


56    PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

or  that  his  principles  ought  to  have  any  influence 
upon  his  practice  ;  for  this  philosophy  is  like  a 
hobby-horse,  which  a  man  in  bad  health  may  ride 
in  his  closet,  without  hurting  his  reputation ;  but, 
if  he  should  take  him  abroad  with  him  to  church, 
or  to  the  exchange,  or  to  the  play-house,  his  heir 
would  immediately  call  a  jury,  and  seize  his  estate. 

§6.  The  Conception  and  Belief  of  a  Sentient 
Being  or  Mind  is  suggested  by  our  Con- 
stitution— The  Notion  of  Relations  not 
always  got  by  comparing  the  related 
Ideas 

Leaving  this  philosophy,  therefore,  to  those  who 
have  occasion  for  it,  and  can  use  it  discreetly  as  a 
chamber  exercise,  we  may  still  inquire  how  the 
rest  of  mankind, 'and  even  the  adepts  themselves, 
except  in  some  solitary  moments,  have  got  so 
strong  and  irresistible  a  belief,  that  thought  must 
have  a  subject,  and  be  the  act  of  some  thinking 
being ;  how  every  man  believes  himself  to  be  some- 
thing distinct  from  his  ideas  and  impressions — some- 
thing which  continues  the  same  identical  self  when  all 
his  ideas  and  impressions  are  changed.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  trace  the  origin  of  this  opinion  in  history;  for 
all  languages  have  it  interwoven  in  their  original  con- 
struction. All  nations  have  always  believed  it.  The 
constitution  of  all  laws  and  governments,  as  well  as 
the  common  transactions  of  life,  suppose  it. 


REID  57 

It  is  no  less  impossible  for  any  man  to  recollect 
when  he  himself  came  by  this  notion  ;  for,  as  far 
back  as  we  can  remember,  we  were  already  in 
possession  of  it,  and  as  fully  persuaded  of  our  own 
existence,  and  the  existence  of  other  things,  as  that 
one  and  one  make  two.  It  seems,  therefore,  that 
this  opinion  preceded  all  reasoning,  and  experience, 
and  instruction  ;  and  this  is  the  more  probable, 
because  we  could  not  get  it  by  any  of  these  means. 
It  appears,  then,  to  be  an  undeniable  fact,  that, 
from  thought  or  sensation,  all  mankind,  constantly 
and  invariably,  from  the  first  dawning  of  reflection, 
do  infer  a  power  or  faculty  of  thinking,  and  a  per- 
manent being  or  mind  to  which  that  faculty  belongs ; 
and  that  we  as  invariably  ascribe  all  the  various 
kinds  of  sensation  and  thought  we  are  conscious 
of,  to  one  individual  mind  or  self. 

But  by  what  rules  of  logic  we  make  these  infer- 
ences, it  is  impossible  to  shew  ;  nay,  it  is  impossible 
to  shew  how  our  sensations  and  thoughts  can  give 
us  the  very  notion  and  conception  either  of  a  mind 
or  of  a  faculty.  The  faculty  of  smelling  is  some- 
thing very  different  from  the  actual  sensation  of 
smelling  ;  for  the  faculty  may  remain  when  we  have 
no  sensation.  And  the  mind  is  no  less  different 
from  the  faculty  ;  for  it  continues  the  same  in- 
dividual being  when  that  faculty  is  lost.  Yet 
this  sensation  suggests  to  us  both  a  faculty  and  a 
mind  ;    and  not  only  suggests  the  notion  of  them, 


58     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

but  creates  a  belief  of  their  existence  ;  although 
it  is  impossible  to  discover,  by  reason,  any  tie  or 
connection  between  one  and  the  other. 

What  shall  we  say,  then  ?  Either  those  infer- 
ences which  we  draw  from  our  sensations — namely, 
the  existence  of  a  mind,  and  of  powers  or  faculties 
belonging  to  it — are  prejudices  of  philosophy  or 
education,  mere  fictions  of  the  mind,  which  a  wise 
man  should  throw  off  as  he  does  the  belief  of  fairies  ; 
or  they  are  judgments  of  nature — judgments  not 
got  by  comparing  ideas,  and  perceiving  agreements 
and  disagreements,  but  immediately  inspired  by 
our  constitution. 

If  this  last  is  the  case,  as  I  apprehend  it  is,  it  will 
be  impossible  to  shake  off  those  opinions,  and  we 
must  yield  to  them  at  last,  though  we  struggle  hard 
to  get  rid  of  them.  And  if  we  could,  by  a  deter- 
mined obstinacy,  shake  off  the  principles  of  our 
nature,  this  is  not  to  act  the  philosopher,  but  the 
fool  or  the  madman.  It  is  incumbent  upon  those 
who  think  that  these  are  not  natural  principles,  to 
shew,  in  the  first  place,  how  we  can  otherwise  get 
the  notion  of  a  mind  and  its  faculties  ;  and  then  to 
shew  how  we  come  to  deceive  ourselves  into  the 
opinion  that  sensation  cannot  be  without  a  sentient 
being. 

It  is  the  received  doctrine  of  philosophers,  that 
our  notions  of  relations  can  only  be  got  by  com- 
paring the  related  ideas  :    but,  in  the  present  case. 


REID  59 

there  seems  to  be  an  instance  to  the  contrary.  It 
is  not  by  having  first  the  notions  of  mind  and  sensa- 
tion, and  then  comparing  them  together,  that  we 
perceive  the  one  to  have  the  relation  of  a  subject 
or  substratum,  and  the  other  that  of  an  act  or 
operation  :  on  the  contrary,  one  of  the  related  things 
— to  wit,  sensation — suggests  to  us  both  the  corre- 
late and  the  relation. 

I  beg  leave  to  make  use  of  the  word  suggestion, 
because  I  know  not  one  more  proper,  to  express 
a  power  of  the  mind,  which  seems  entirely  to  have 
escaped  the  notice  of  philosophers,  and  to  which  we 
owe  many  of  our  simple  notions  which  are  neither 
impressions  nor  ideas,  as  well  as  many  original 
principles  of  belief.  I  shall  endeavour  to  illustrate, 
by  an  example,  what  I  understand  by  this  word. 
We  all  know,  that  a  certain  kind  of  sound  suggests 
immediately  to  the  mind,  a  coach  passing  in  the 
street ;  and  not  only  produces  the  imagination,  but 
the  belief,  that  a  coach  is  passing.  Yet  there  is 
here  no  comparing  of  ideas,  no  perception  of  agree- 
ments or  disagreements,  to  produce  this  belief  ; 
nor  is  there  the  least  similitude  between  the  sound 
we  hear  and  the  coach  we  imagine  and  believe  to 
be  passing. 

It  is  true  that  this  suggestion  is  not  natural  and 
original ;  it  is  the  result  of  experience  and  habit. 
But  I  think  it  appears,  from  what  hath  been  said, 
fhat  there  are  natural  suggestions  :    particularly. 


6o     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON   SENSE 

that  sensation  suggests  the  notion  of  present 
existence,  and  the  belief  that  what  we  perceive 
or  feel  does  now  exist ;  that  memory  suggests  the 
notion  of  past  existence,  and  the  belief  that  what 
we  remember  did  exist  in  time  past ;  and  that  our 
sensations  and  thoughts  do  also  suggest  the  notion 
of  a  mind,  and  the  belief  of  its  existence,  and  of 
its  relation  to  our  thoughts.  By  a  like  natural 
principle  it  is,  that  a  beginning  of  existence,  or  any 
change  in  nature,  suggests  to  us  the  notion  of  a  cause 
and  compels  our  belief  of  its  existence.  And,  in 
like  manner,  as  shall  be  shewn  when  we  come  to 
the  sense  of  touch,  certain  sensations  of  touch,  by 
the  constitution  of  our  nature,  suggest  to  us  exten- 
sion, solidity,  and  motion,  which  are  nowise  like 
to  sensations,  although  they  have  been  hitherto 
confounded  with  them. 

§7.  There  is  a  Quality  or  Virtue  in  Bodies, 

WHICH  WE  CALL  THEIR  SmELL — HoW  THIS  IS 

connected  in  the  imagination  with  the 
Sensation 

We  have  considered  smell  as  signifying  a  sensa- 
tion, feeling,  or  impression  upon  the  mind  ;  and  in 
this  sense,  it  can  only  be  in  a  mind,  or  sentient 
being  :  but  it  is  evident  that  mankind  give  the  name 
of  smell  much  more  frequently  to  something  which 
they  conceive  to  be  external,  and  to  be  a  quality 
of  body  :    they  understand  something  by  it  which 


REID  6i 

does  not  at  all  infer  a  mind  ;  and  have  not  the  least 
difficulty  in  conceiving  the  air  perfumed  with  aro- 
matic odours  in  the  deserts  of  Arabia,  or  in  some 
uninhabited  island,  where  the  human  foot  never 
trod.  Every  sensible  day-labourer  hath  as  clear 
a  notion  of  this,  and  as  full  a  conviction  of  the 
possibility  of  it,  as  he  hath  of  his  own  existence  ; 
and  can  no  more  doubt  of  the  one  than  of  the  other. 
Suppose  that  such  a  man  meets  with  a  modern 
philosopher,  and  wants  to  be  informed  what  smell 
in  plants  is.  The  philosopher  tells  him,  that  there 
is  no  smell  in  plants,  nor  in  anything  but  in  the 
mind ;  that  it  is  impossible  there  can  be  smell  but  in 
a  mind  ;  and  that  all  this  hath  been  demonstrated 
by  modern  philosophy.  The  plain  man  will,  no 
doubt,  be  apt  to  think  him  merry  :  but,  if  he  finds 
that  he  is  serious,  his  next  conclusion  will  be  that 
he  is  mad ;  or  that  philosophy,  like  magic,,  puts 
men  into  a  new  world,  and  gives  them  different 
faculties  from  common  men.  And  thus  philosophy 
and  common  sense  are  set  at  variance.  But  who 
is  to  blame  for  it  ?  In  my  opinion  the  philosopher 
is  to  blame.  For  if  he  means  by  smell,  what  the 
rest  of  mankind  most  commonly  mean,  he  is 
certainly  mad.  But  if  he  puts  a  different  meaning 
upon  the  word,  without  observing  it  himself,  or 
giving  warning  to  others,  he  abuses  language  and 
disgraces  philosophy,  without  doing  any  service 
to  truth  :  as  if  a  man  should  exchange  the  meaning 


62     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

of  the  words  daughter  and  cow,  and  then  endeavour 
to  prove  to  his  plain  neighbour,  that  his  cow  is  his 
daughter,  and  his  daughter  his  cow. 

I  believe  there  is  not  much  more  wisdom  in  many 
of  those  paradoxes  of  the  ideal  philosophy,  which  to 
plain  sensible  men  appear  to  be  palpable  absurdities, 
but  with  the  adepts  pass  for  profound  discoveries.  I 
resolve,  for  my  own  part,  always  to  pay  a  great  regard 
to  the  dictates  of  common  sense,  and  not  to  depart 
from  them  without  absolute  necessity  :  and,  there- 
fore, I  am  apt  to  think  that  there  is  really  something 
in  the  rose  or  lily,  which  is  by  the  vulgar  called 
smell,  and  which  continues  to  exist  when  it  is  not 
smelled  :  and  shall  proceed  to  inquire  what  this  is  ; 
how  we  come  by  the  notion  of  it ;  and  what  relation 
this  quality  or  virtue  of  smell  hath  to  the  sensation 
which  we  have  been  obliged  to  call  by  the  same 
name,  for  want  of  another. 

Let  us  therefore  suppose,  as  before,  a  person 
beginning  to  exercise  the  sense  of  smelling  ;  a  little 
experience  will  discover  to  him,  that  the  nose  is  the 
organ  of  this  sense,  and  that  the  air,  or  something 
in  the  air,  is  a  medium  of  it.  And  finding,  by 
farther  experience,  that,  when  a  rose  is  near,  he  has 
a  certain  sensation,  when  it  is  removed,  the  sensa- 
tion is  gone,  he  finds  a  connection  in  nature  betwixt 
the  rose  and  this  sensation.  The  rose  is  considered 
as  a  cause,  occasion,  or  antecedent  of  the  sensation  ; 
the  sensation  as  an  effect  or  consequence  of  the 


REID  63 

presence  of  the  rose  ;  they  are  associated  in  the 
mind,  and  constantly  found  conjoined  in  the 
imagination. 

But  here  it  deserves  our  notice,  that,  although 
the  sensation  may  seem  more  closely  related  to  the 
mind  its  subject,  or  to  the  nose  its  organ,  yet 
neither  of  these  connections  operate  so  powerfully 
upon  the  imagination  as  its  connection  with  the 
rose  its  concomitant.  The  reason  of  this  seems 
to  be,  that  its  connection  with  the  mind  is  more 
general,  and  noway  distinguisheth  it  from  other 
smells,  or  even  from  tastes,  sounds,  and  other  kinds 
of  sensations.  The  relation  it  hath  to  the  organ 
is  likewise  general,  and  doth  not  distinguish  it  from 
other  smells  ;  but  the  connection  it  hath  with  the 
rose  is  special  and  constant ;  by  which  means  they 
become  almost  inseparable  in  the  imagination,  in 
like  manner  as  thunder  and  lightning,  freezing 
and  cold. 

§  8.  That  there  is  a  Principle  in  Human  Nature, 

FROM  which  the  NoTION  OF  THIS,  AS  WELL 
AS  ALL  OTHER  NATURAL  VIRTUES  OR  CAUSES, 
IS  DERIVED 

In  order  to  illustrate  further  how  we  come  to 
conceive  a  quality  or  virtue  in  the  rose  which  we 
call  smell,  and  what  this  smell  is,  it  is  proper  to 
observe,  that  the  mind  begins  very  early  to  thirst 
after  principles  which  may  direct  it  in  the  exertion 


64     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

of  its  powers.  The  smell  of  a  rose  is  a  certain 
affection  or  feeling  of  the  mind  ;  and,  as  it  is  not 
constant,  but  comes  and  goes,  we  want  to  know 
when  and  where  we  may  expect  it ;  and  are  uneasy 
till  we  find  something  which,  being  present,  brings 
this  feeling  along  with  it,  and,  being  removed, 
removes  it.  This,  when  found,  we  call  the  cause  of 
it ;  not  in  a  strict  and  philosophical  sense,  as  if  the 
feeling  were  really  effected  or  produced  by  that 
cause,  but  in  a  popular  sense  ;  for  the  mind  is 
satisfied  if  there  is  a  constant  conjunction  between 
them ;  and  such  causes  are  in  reality  nothing  else 
but  laws  of  nature.  Having  found  the  smell  thus 
constantly  conjoined  with  the  rose,  the  mind  is  at 
rest,  without  inquiring  whether  this  conjunction 
is  owing  to  a  real  efficiency  or  not ;  that  being  a 
philosophical  inquiry,  which  does  not  concern 
human  life.  But  every  discovery  of  such  a  con- 
stant conjunction  is  of  real  importance  in  life,  and 
makes  a  strong  impression  upon  the  mind. 

So  ardently  do  we  desire  to  find  everything  that 
happens  within  our  observation  thus  connected 
with  something  else  as  its  cause  or  occasion,  that 
we  are  apt  to  fancy  connections  upon  the  slightest 
grounds ;  and  this  weakness  is  most  remarkable 
in  the  ignorant,  who  know  least  of  the  real  connec- 
tions established  in  nature.  A  man  meets  with  an 
unlucky  accident  on  a  certain  day  of  the  year,  and, 
knowing  no  other  cause  of  his  misfortune,  he  is  apt 


REID  65 

to  conceive  something  unlucky  in  that  day  of  the 
calendar  ;  and,  if  he  finds  the  same  connection 
hold  a  second  time,  is  strongly  confirmed  in  his 
superstition.  I  remember,  many  years  ago,  a 
white  ox  was  brought  into  this  country,  of  so 
enormous  a  size  that  people  came  many  miles  to 
see  him.  There  happened,  some  months  after,  an 
uncommon  fatality  among  women  in  child-bearing. 
Two  such  uncommon  events,  following  one  another, 
gave  a  suspicion  of  their  connection,  and  occasioned 
a  common  opinion  among  the  country-people  that 
the  white  ox  was  the  cause  of  this  fatality. 

However  silly  and  ridiculous  this  opinion  was, 
it  sprung  from  the  same  root  in  human  nature  on 
which  all  natural  philosophy  grows — namely,  an 
eager  desire  to  find  out  connections  in  things,  and 
a  natural,  original,  and  unaccountable  propensity 
to  believe  that  the  connections  which  we  have  ob- 
served in  time  past  will  continue  in  time  to  come. 
Omens,  portents,  good  and  bad  luck,  palmistry, 
astrology,  all  the  numerous  arts  of  divination  and  of 
interpreting  dreams,  false  hypotheses  and  systems, 
and  true  principles  in  the  philosophy  of  nature,  are 
all  built  upon  the  same  foundation  in  the  human 
constitution,  and  are  distinguished  only  according 
as  we  conclude  rashly  from  too  few  instances,  or 
cautiously  from  a  sufficient  induction. 

As  it  is  experience  only  that  discovers  these  con- 
nections between  natural  causes  and  their  effects  ; 

5 


66    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

without  inquiring  further,  we  attribute  to  the  cause 
some  vague  and  indistinct  notion  of  power  or  virtue 
to  produce  the  effect.  And,  in  many  cases,  the 
purposes  of  Hfe  do  not  make  it  necessary  to  give 
distinct  names  to  the  cause  and  the  effect.  Whence 
it  happens,  that,  being  closely  connected  in  the 
imagination,  although  very  unlike  to  each  other, 
one  name  serves  for  both ;  and,  in  common  discourse, 
is  most  frequently  applied  to  that  which,  of  the  two, 
is  most  the  object  of  our  attention.  This  occasions 
an  ambiguity  in  many  words,  which,  having  the 
same  causes  in  all  languages,  is  common  to  all,  and 
is  apt  to  be  overlooked  even  by  philosophers.  Some 
instances  will  serve  both  to  illustrate  and  confirm 
what  we  have  said. 

Magnetism  signifies  both  the  tendency  of  the 
iron  towards  the  magnet,  and  the  power  of  the 
magnet  to  produce  that  tendency ;  and,  if  it  was 
asked,  whether  it  is  a  quality  of  the  iron  or  of  the 
magnet,  one  would  perhaps  be  puzzled  at  first ;  but 
a  little  attention  would  discover,  that  we  conceive 
a  power  or  virtue  in  the  magnet  as  the  cause,  and 
a  motion  in  the  iron  as  the  effect ;  and,  although 
these  are  things  quite  unlike,  they  are  so  united 
in  the  imagination,  that  we  give  the  common  name 
of  magnetism  to  both.  The  same  thing  may  be  said 
of  gravitation,  which  sometimes  signifies  the  tend- 
ency of  bodies  towards  the  earth,  sometimes  the 
attractive  power  of  the  earth,  which  we  conceive 


REID  67 

as  the  cause  of  that  tendency.  We  may  observe 
the  same  ambiguity  in  some  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton's 
definitions  ;  and  that  even  in  words  of  his  own 
making.  In  three  of  his  definitions,  he  explains 
very  distinctly  what  he  understands  by  the  absolute 
quantity,  what  by  the  accelerative  quantity,  and 
what  by  the  motive  quantity,  of  a  centripetal  force. 
In  the  first  of  these  three  definitions,  centripetal 
force  is  put  for  the  cause,  which  we  conceive  to  be 
some  power  or  virtue  in  the  centre  or  central  body  ; 
in  the  last  two,  the  same  word  is  put  for  the  effect 
of  this  cause,  in  producing  velocity,  or  in  producing 
motion  towards  that  centre. 

Heat  signifies  a  sensation,  and  cold  a  contrary  one  ; 
but  heat  likewise  signifies  a  quality  or  state  of  bodies, 
which  hath  no  contrary,  but  different  degrees. 
When  a  man  feels  the  same  water  hot  to  one  hand 
and  cold  to  the  other,  this  gives  him  occasion  to 
distinguish  between  the  feeling  and  the  heat  of  the 
body  ;  and,  although  he  knows  that  the  sensations 
are  contrary,  he  does  not  imagine  that  the  body 
can  have  contrary  qualities  at  the  same  time.  And 
when  he  finds  a  different  taste  in  the  same  body  in 
sickness  and  in  health,  he  is  easily  convinced  that 
the  quality  in  the  body  called  taste  is  the  same  as 
before,  although  the  sensations  he  has  from  it  are 
perhaps  opposite. 

The  vulgar  are  commonly  charged  by  philo- 
sophers, with  the  absurdity  of  imagining  the  smell 


68     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

in  the  rose  to  be  something  like  to  the  sensation  of 
smelling  ;  but  I  think  unjustly  ;  for  they  neither 
give  the  same  epithets  to  both,  nor  do  they  reason 
in  the  same  manner  from  them.  What  is  smell  in 
the  rose  ?  It  is  a  quality  or  virtue  of  the  rose,  or 
of  something  proceeding  from  it,  which  we  perceive 
by  the  sense  of  smelling  ;  and  this  is  all  we  know 
of  the  matter.  But  what  is  smelling  ?  It  is  an 
act  of  the  mind,  but  is  never  imagined  to  be  a 
quality  of  the  mind.  Again,  the  sensation  of 
smelling  is  conceived  to  infer  necessarily  a  mind 
or  sentient  being  ;  but  smell  in  the  rose  infers  no 
such  thing.  We  say,  this  body  smells  sweet,  that 
stinks ;  but  we  do  not  say,  this  mind  smells  sweet 
and  that  stinks.  Therefore,  smell  in  the  rose,  and 
the  sensation  which  it  causes,  are  not  conceived, 
even  by  the  vulgar,  to  be  things  of  the  same  kind, 
although  they  have  the  same  name. 

From  what  hath  been  said,  we  may  learn  that  the 
smell  of  a  rose  signifies  two  things  :  First,  a  sensa- 
tion, which  can  have  no  existence  but  when  it  is 
perceived,  and  can  only  be  in  a  sentient  being  or 
mind  ;  Secondly,  it  signifies  some  power,  quality, 
or  virtue,  in  the  rose,  or  in  efiluvia  proceeding  from 
it,  which  hath  a  permanent  existence,  independent 
of  the  mind,  and  which,  by  the  constitution  of 
nature,  produces  the  sensation  in  us.  By  the 
original  constitution  of  our  nature,  we  are  both  led 
to  believe  that  there  is  a  permanent  cause  of  the 


REID  69 

sensation,  and  prompted  to  seek  after  it ;  and 
experience  determines  us  to  place  it  in  the  rose. 
The  names  of  all  smells,  tastes,  sounds,  as  well  as 
heat  and  cold,  have  a  like  ambiguity  in  all  languages; 
but  it  deserves  our  attention,  that  these  names  are 
but  rarely,  in  common  language,  used  to  signify 
the  sensations  ;  for  the  most  part,  they  signify 
the  external  qualities  which  are  indicated  by  the 
sensations — the  cause  of  which  phaenomenon  I  take 
to  be  this.  Our  sensations  have  very  different 
degrees  of  strength.  Some  of  them  are  so  quick 
and  lively  as  to  give  us  a  great  deal  either  of  pleasure 
or  of  uneasiness.  When  this  is  the  case,  we  are 
compelled  to  attend  to  the  sensation  itself,  and  to 
make  it  an  object  of  thought  and  discourse  ;  we 
give  it  a  name,  which  signifies  nothing  but  the 
sensation  ;  and  in  this  case  we  readily  acknowledge 
that  the  thing  meant  by  that  name  is  in  the  mind 
only,  and  not  in  anything  external.  Such  are  the 
various  kinds  of  pain,  sickness,  and  the  sensations 
of  hunger  and  other  appetites.  But,  where  the 
sensation  is  not  so  interesting  as  to  require  to  be 
made  an  object  of  thought,  our  constitution  leads 
us  to  consider  it  as  a  sign  of  something  external, 
which  hath  a  constant  conjunction  with  it ;  and, 
having  found  what  it  indicates,  we  give  a  name  to 
that :  the  sensation,  having  no  proper  name,  falls 
in  as  an  accessory  to  the  thing  signified  by  it,  and 
is  confounded  under  the  same  name.     So  that  the 


70    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

name  may,  indeed,  be  applied  to  the  sensation,  but 
most  properly  and  commonly  is  applied  to  the  thing 
indicated  by  that  sensation.  The  sensations  of 
smell,  taste,  sound,  and  colour,  are  of  infinitely  more 
importance  as  signs  or  indications,  than  they  are 
upon  their  own  account ;  like  the  words  of  a 
language,  wherein  we  do  not  attend  to  the  sound 
but  to  the  sense. 

§  9.  Whether  in  Sensation  the  Mind  is  Active 
OR  Passive  ? 

There  is  one  inquiry  remains.  Whether,  in 
smelling,  and  in  other  sensations,  the  mind  is  active 
or  passive  ?  This  possibly  may  seem  to  be  a 
question  about  words,  or,  at  least,  of  very  small 
importance  ;  however,  if  it  leads  us  to  attend  more 
accurately  to  the  operations  of  our  minds  than  we 
are  accustomed  to  do,  it  is,  upon  that  very  account, 
not  altogether  unprofitable.  I  think  the  opinion 
of  modern  philosophers  is,  that  in  sensation  the 
mind  is  altogether  passive.  And  this  undoubtedly 
is  so  far  true,  that  we  cannot  raise  any  sensation  in 
our  minds  by  willing  it ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
seems  hardly  possible  to  avoid  having  the  sensation 
when  the  object  is  presented.  Yet  it  seems  likewise 
to  be  true,  that,  in  proportion  as  the  attention  is 
more  or  less  turned  to  a  sensation  or  diverted  from 
it,  that  sensation  is  more  or  less  perceived  and 
remembered.     Every  one  knows  that  very  intense 


REID  71 

pain  may  be  diverted  by  a  surprise,  or  by  anything 
that  entirely  occupies  the  mind.  When  we  are 
engaged  in  earnest  conversation,  the  clock  may 
strike  by  us  without  being  heard ;  at  least,  we 
remember  not,  the  next  moment,  that  we  did  hear 
it.  The  noise  and  tumult  of  a  great  trading  city 
is  not  heard  by  them  who  have  lived  in  it  all  their 
days ;  but  it  stuns  those  strangers  who  have 
lived  in  the  peaceful  retirement  of  the  country. 
Whether,  therefore,  there  can  be  any  sensation 
where  the  mind  is  purely  passive,  I  will  not  say ; 
but  I  think  we  are  conscious  of  having  given  some 
attention  to  every  sensation  which  we  remember, 
though  ever  so  recent. 

No  doubt,  where  the  impulse  is  strong  and  un- 
common, it  is  as  difficult  to  withhold  attention 
as  it  is  to  forbear  crying  out  in  racking  pain,  or 
starting  in  a  sudden  fright.  But  how  far  both 
might  be  attained  by  strong  resolution  and  practice, 
is  not  easy  to  determine.  So  that,  although  the 
Peripatetics  had  no  good  reason  to  suppose  an 
active  and  a  passive  intellect,  since  attention  may 
be  well  enough  accounted  an  act  of  the  will,  yet  I 
think  they  came  nearer  to  the  truth,  in  holding  the 
mind  to  be  in  sensation  partly  passive  and  partly 
active,  than  the  moderns,  in  affirming  it  to  be 
purely  passive.  Sensation,  imagination,  memory, 
and  judgment,  have,  by  the  vulgar  in  all  ages, 
been  considered  as  acts  of  the  mind.     The  manner  in 


72     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

which  they  are  expressed  in  all  languages  shews 
this.  When  the  mind  is  much  employed  in  them, 
we  say  it  is  very  active ;  whereas,  if  they  were 
impressions  only,  as  the  ideal  philosophy  would 
lead  us  to  conceive,  we  ought,  in  such  a  case,  rather 
to  say,  that  the  mind  is  very  passive  ;  for,  I  sup- 
pose, no  man  would  attribute  great  activity  to  the 
paper  I  write  upon,  because  it  receives  variety  of 
characters. 

The  relation  which  the  sensation  of  smell  bears  to 
the  memory  and  imagination  of  it,  and  to  a  mind  or 
subject,  is  common  to  all  our  sensations,  and,  indeed, 
to  all  the  operations  of  the  mind ;  the  relation  it 
bears  to  the  will  is  common  to  it  with  all  the  powers 
of  understanding  ;  and  the  relation  it  bears  to  that 
quality  or  virtue  of  bodies  which  it  indicates,  is 
common  to  it  with  the  sensations  of  taste,  heading, 
colour,  heat,  and  cold — so  that  what  hath  been  said 
of  this  sense,  may  easily  be  applied  to  several  of 
our  senses,  and  to  other  operations  of  the  mind  ; 
and  this,  I  hope,  will  apologize  for  our  insisting  so 
long  upon  it.^ 

III.— KNOWLEDGE   AND   REALITY 
§  I.  Of  Hardness 

Hardness  of  bodies  is  a  thing  that  we  conceive 
as  distinctly,  and  believe  as  firmly,  as  anything  in 

*  Ibid.,  pp.  105-115. 


REID  73 

nature.  We  have  no  way  of  coming  at  this  con- 
ception and  behef,  but  by  means  of  a  certain 
sensation  of  touch,  to  which  hardness  hath  not  the 
least  similitude ;  nor  can  we,  by  any  rules  of 
reasoning,  infer  the  one  from  the  other.  The 
question  is,  How  we  come  by  this  conception 
and  belief  ? 

First,  as  to  the  conception  :  Shall  we  call  it  an 
idea  of  sensation,  or  of  reflection  ?  The  last  will 
not  be  affirmed ;  and  as  little  can  the  first,  unless 
we  will  call  that  an  idea  of  sensation  which  hath  no 
resemblance  to  any  sensation.  So  that  the  origin 
of  this  idea  of  hardness,  one  of  the  most  common 
and  most  distinct  we  have,  is  not  to  be  found  in  all 
our  systems  of  the  mind  :  not  even  in  those  which 
have  so  copiously  endeavoured  to  deduce  all  our 
notions  from  sensation  and  reflection. 

But,  secondly,  supposing  we  have  got  the  con- 
ception of  hardness,  how  came  we  by  the  belief  of  it  ? 
Is  it  self-evident,  from  comparing  the  ideas,  that 
such  a  sensation  could  not  be  felt,  unless  such  a 
quality  of  bodies  existed  ?  No.  Can  it  be  proved 
by  probable  or  certain  arguments  ?  No ;  it 
cannot.  Have  we  got  this  belief,  then,  by  tradition, 
by  education,  or  by  experience  ?  No ;  it  is  not  got 
in  any  of  these  ways.  Shall  we  then  throw  off  this 
belief  as  having  no  foundation  in  reason  ?  Alas  ! 
it  is  not  in  our  power ;  it  triumphs  over  reason,  and 
laughs  at  all  the  arguments  of  a  philosopher.     Even 


74    PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

the  author  of  the  Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  though 
he  saw  no  reason  for  this  behef,  but  many  against 
it,  could  hardly  conquer  it  in  his  speculative  and 
solitary  moments  ;  at  other  times,  he  fairly  yielded 
to  it,  and  confesses  that  he  found  himself  under  a 
necessity  to  do  so. 

What  shall  we  say,  then,  of  this  conception,  and 
this  belief,  which  are  so  unaccountable  and  un- 
tractable  ?  I  see  nothing  left,  but  to  conclude, 
that,  by  an  original  principle  of  our  constitution,  a 
certain  sensation  of  touch  both  suggests  to  the  mind 
the  conception  of  hardness,  and  creates  the  belief 
of  it :  or,  in  other  words,  that  this  sensation  is  a 
natural  sign  of  hardness.  And  this  I  shall  en- 
deavour more  fully  to  explain. 

§  2.  Of  Natural  Signs 

As  in  artificial  signs  there  is  often  neither  simili- 
tude between  the  sign  and  thing  signified,  nor  any 
connection  that  arises  necessarily  from  the  nature 
of  the  things,  so  it  is  also  in  natural  signs.  The 
word  gold  has  no  similitude  to  the  substance 
signified  by  it ;  nor  is  it  in  its  own  nature  more  fit 
to  signify  this  than  any  other  substance  ;  yet,  by 
habit  and  custom,  it  suggests  this  and  no  other. 
In  like  manner,  a  sensation  of  touch  suggests  hard- 
ness, although  it  hath  neither  similitude  to  hardness, 
nor,  as  far  as  we  can  perceive,  any  necessary  con- 
nection with  it.     The  difference  betwixt  these  two 


REID  75 

signs  lies  only  in  this — that,  in  the  first,  the  sug- 
gestion is  the  effect  of  habit  and  custom  ;  in  the 
second,  it  is  not  the  effect  of  habit,  but  of  the 
original  constitution  of  our  minds. 

It  appears  evident  from  what  hath  been  said  on 
the  subject  of  language,  that  there  are  natural  signs 
as  well  as  artificial ;  and  particularly,  that  the 
thoughts,  purposes,  and  dispositions  of  the  mind, 
have  their  natural  signs  in  the  features  of  the  face, 
the  modulation  of  the  voice,  and  the  motion  and 
attitude  of  the  body  :  that,  without  a  natural 
knowledge  of  the  connection  between  these  signs 
and  the  things  signified  by  them,  language  could 
never  have  been  invented  and  established  among 
men :  and,  that  the  fine  arts  are  all  founded 
upon  this  connection,  which  we  may  call  the 
natural  language  of  mankind.  It  is  now  proper 
to  observe,  that  there  are  different  orders  of  natural 
signs,  and  to  point  out  the  different  classes  into 
which  they  may  be  distinguished,  that  we  may  more 
distinctly  conceive  the  relation  between  our  sensa- 
tions and  the  things  they  suggest,  and  what  we  mean 
by  calling  sensations  signs  of  external  things. 

The  first  class  of  natural  signs  comprehends 
those  whose  connection  with  the  thing  signified 
is  established  by  nature,  but  discovered  only  by 
experience.  The  whole  of  genuine  philosophy 
consists  in  discovering  such  connections,  and  re- 
ducing  them   to   general   rules.     The   great   Lord 


76     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

Verulam  had  a  perfect  comprehension  of  this,  when 
he  called  it  an  interpretation  of  nature.  No  man 
ever  more  distinctly  understood  or  happily  expressed 
the  nature  and  foundation  of  the  philosophical 
art.  What  is  all  we  know  of  mechanics,  astronomy, 
and  optics,  but  connections  established  by  nature, 
and  discovered  by  experience  or  observation,  and 
consequences  deduced  from  them  ?  All  the  know- 
ledge we  have  in  agriculture,  gardening,  chemistry, 
and  medicine,  is  built  upon  the  same  foundation. 
And  if  ever  our  philosophy  concerning  the  human 
mind  is  carried  so  far  as  to  deserve  the  name  of 
science,  which  ought  never  to  be  despaired  of,  it 
must  be  by  observing  facts,  reducing  them  to 
general  rules,  and  drawing  just  conclusions  from 
them.  What  we  commonly  call  natural  causes 
might,  with  more  propriety,  be  called  natural 
signs,  and  what  we  call  effects,  the  things  signified. 
The  causes  have  no  proper  efficiency  or  causality, 
as  far  as  we  know  ;  and  all  we  can  certainly  affirm 
is,  that  nature  hath  established  a  constant  con- 
junction between  them  and  the  things  called  their 
effects  ;  and  hath  given  to  mankind  a  disposition 
to  observe  those  connections,  to  confide  in  their 
continuance,  and  to  make  use  of  them  for  the 
improvement  of  our  knowledge,  and  increase  of 
our  power. 

A  second  class  is  that  wherein  the  connection 
between  the  sign  and  thing  signified,  is  not  only 


REID  77 

established  by  nature,  but  discovered  to  us  by  a 
natural  principle,  without  reasoning  or  experience. 
Of  this  kind  are  the  natural  signs  of  human  thoughts, 
purposes,  and  desires,  which  have  been  already 
mentioned  as  the  natural  language  of  mankind. 
An  infant  may  be  put  into  a  fright  by  an  angry 
countenance,  and  soothed  again  by  smiles  and 
blandishments.  A  child  that  has  a  good  musical 
ear,  may  be  put  to  sleep  or  to  dance,  may  be 
made  merry  or  sorrowful,  by  the  modulation  of 
musical  sounds.  The  principles  of  all  the  fine  arts, 
and  of  what  we  call  a  fine  taste,  may  be  resolved 
into  connections  of  this  kind.  A  fine  taste  may  be 
improved  by  reasoning  and  experience  ;  but  if  the 
first  principles  of  it  were  not  planted  in  our  minds 
by  nature,  it  could  never  be  acquired.  Nay,  we 
have  already  made  it  appear,  that  a  great  part  of 
this  knowledge  which  we  have  by  nature,  is  lost 
by  the  disuse  of  natural  signs,  and  the  substitution 
of  artificial  in  their  place. 

A  third  class  of  natural  signs  comprehends 
those  which,  though  we  never  before  had  any 
notion  or  conception  of  the  thing  signified,  do 
suggest  it,  or  conjure  it  up,  as  it  were,  by  a  natural 
kind  of  magic,  and  at  once  give  us  a  conception  and 
create  a  belief  of  it.  I  shewed  formerly,  that  our 
sensations  suggest  to  us  a  sentient  being  or  mind 
to  which  they  belong — a  being  which  hath  a  per- 
manent   existence,    although    the    sensations    are 


jS    PHILOSOPHY  OF   COMMON  SENSE 

transient  and  of  short  duration — a  being  which  is 
still  the  same,  while  its  sensations  and  other 
operations  are  varied  ten  thousand  ways — a  being 
which  hath  the  same  relation  to  all  that  infinite 
variety  of  thoughts,  purposes,  actions,  affections, 
enjoyments,  and  sufferings,  which  we  are  conscious 
of,  or  can  remember.  The  conception  of  a  mind 
is  neither  an  idea  of  sensation  nor  of  reflection  ; 
for  it  is  neither  like  any  of  our  sensations,  nor  like 
anything  we  are  conscious  of.  The  first  conception 
of  it,  as  well  as  the  behef  of  it,  and  of  the  common 
relation  it  bears  to  all  that  we  are  conscious  of,  or 
remember,  is  suggested  to  every  thinking  being, 
we  do  not  know  how. 

The  notion  of  hardness  in  bodies,  as  well  as  the 
belief  of  it,  are  got  in  a  similar  manner  ;  being,  by 
an  original  principle  of  our  nature,  annexed  to 
that  sensation  which  we  have  when  we  feel  a  hard 
body.  And  so  naturally  and  necessarily  does  the 
sensation  convey  the  notion  and  belief  of  hard- 
ness, that  hitherto  they  have  been  confounded 
by  the  most  acute  inquirers  into  the  principles 
of  human  nature,  although  they  appear,  upon 
accurate  reflection,  not  only  to  be  different 
things,  but  as  unlike  as  pain  is  to  the  point 
of  a  sword. 

It  may  be  observed,  that,  as  the  first  class  of 
natural  signs  I  have  mentioned  is  the  foundation 
of  true  philosophy,  and  the  second  the  foundation 


REID  79 

of  the  fine  arts,  or  of  taste — so  the  last  is  the 
foundation  of  common  sense — a  part  of  human 
nature  which  hath  never  been  explained. 

I  take  it  for  granted,  that  the  notion  of  hardness, 
and  the  belief  of  it,  is  first  got  by  means  of  that 
particular  sensation  which,  as  far  back  as  we  can 
remember,  does  invariably  suggest  it;  and  that,  if 
we  had  never  had  such  a  feeling,  we  should  never 
have  had  any  notion  of  hardness.  I  think  it  is 
evident,  that  we  cannot,  by  reasoning  from  our 
sensations,  collect  the  existence  of  bodies  at  all,  far 
less  any  of  their  qualities.  This  hath  been  proved 
by  unanswerable  arguments  by  the  Bishop  of 
Cloyne,  and  by  the  author  of  the  Treatise  of  Human 
Nature.  It  appears  as  evident  that  this  connection 
between  our  sensations  and  the  conception  and 
belief  of  external  existences  cannot  be  produced 
by  habit,  experience,  education,  or  any  principle 
of  human  nature  that  hath  been  admitted  by  philo- 
sophers. At  the  same  time,  it  is  a  fact  that  such 
sensations  are  invariably  connected  with  the  con- 
ception and  belief  of  external  existences.  Hence, 
by  all  rules  of  just  reasoning,  we  must  conclude, 
that  this  connection  is  the  effect  of  our  con- 
stitution, and  ought  to  be  considered  as  an 
original  principle  of  human  nature,  till  we  find 
some  more  general  principle  into  which  it  may 
be  resolved.^ 

1  Ibid.,  pp.  I2I-I22. 


8o     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

§  3.  Of  Extension 

It  is  further  to  be  observed,  that  hardness  and 
softness,  roughness  and  smoothness,  figure  and 
motion,  do  all  suppose  extension,  and  cannot  be 
conceived  without  it ;  yet,  I  think  it  must,  on  the 
other  hand,  be  allowed  that,  if  we  had  never  felt 
any  thing  hard  or  soft,  rough  or  smooth,  figured 
or  moved,  we  should  never  have  had  a  conception 
of  extension ;  so  that,  as  there  is  good  ground 
to  believe  that  the  notion  of  extension  could  not 
be  prior  to  that  of  other  primary  qualities,  so  it 
is  certain  that  it  could  not  be  posterior  to  the 
notion  of  any  of  them,  being  necessarily  implied  in 
them  all. 

Extension,  therefore,  seems  to  be  a  quality 
suggested  to  us,  by  the  very  same  sensations  which 
suggest  the  other  qualities  above  mentioned.  When 
I  grasp  a  ball  in  my  hand,  I  perceive  it  at  once  hard, 
figured,  and  extended.  The  feeling  is  very  simple, 
and  hath  not  the  least  resemblance  to  any  quality 
of  body.  Yet  it  suggests  to  us  three  primary 
qualities  perfectly  distinct  from  one  another,  as 
well  as  from  the  sensation  which  indicates  them. 
When  I  move  my  hand  along  the  table,  the  feeling 
is  so  simple  that, I  find  it  difficult  to  distinguish 
it  into  things  of  different  natures ;  yet,  it  immedi- 
ately suggests  hardness,  smoothness,  extension,  and 
motion — things  of  very  different  natures,  and  all 


REID  8i 

of  them  as  distinctly  understood  as  the  feehng 
which  suggests  them. 

We  are  commonly  told  by  philosophers,  that  we 
get  the  idea  of  extension  by  feeling  along  the 
extremities  of  a  body,  as  if  there  was  no  manner  of 
difficulty  in  the  matter.  I  have  sought,  with  great 
pains,  I  confess,  to  find  out  how  this  idea  can  be 
got  by  feeling  ;  but  I  have  sought  in  vain.  Yet  it 
is  one  of  the  clearest  and  most  distinct  notions 
we  have  ;  nor  is  there  anything  whatsoever  about 
which  the  human  understanding  can  carry  on  so 
many  long  and  demonstrative  trains  of  reasoning. 

The  notion  of  extension  is  so  familiar  to  us  from 
infancy,  and  so  constantly  obtruded  by  everything 
we  see  and  feel,  that  we  are  apt  to  think  it  obvious 
how  it  comes  into  the  mind ;  but  upon  a  narrower 
examination  we  shall  find  it  utterly  inexplicable. 
It  is  true  we  have  feelings  of  touch,  which  every 
moment  present  extension  to  the  mind ;  but  how 
they  come  to  do  so,  is  the  question  ;  for  those 
feelings  do  no  more  resemble  extension  than  they 
resemble  justice  or  courage — nor  can  the  existence 
of  extended  things  be  inferred  from  those  feelings 
by  any  rules  of  reasoning  ;  so  that  the  feelings  we 
have  by  touch,  can  neither  explain  how  we  get  the 
notion,  nor  how  we  come  by  the  belief  of  extended 
things. 

What  hath  imposed  upon  philosophers  in  this 

matter  is,  that  the  feelings  of  touch,  which  suggest 

6 


82     PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

primary  qualities,  have  no  names,  nor  are  they  ever 
reflected  upon.  They  pass  through  the  mind  in- 
stantaneously, and  serve  only  to  introduce  the 
notion  and  belief  of  external  things,  which,  by  our 
constitution,  are  connected  with  them.  They  are 
natural  signs,  and  the  mind  immediately  passes 
to  the  thing  signified,  without  making  the  least 
reflection  upon  the  sign,  or  observing  that  there  was 
any  such  thing.  Hence  it  hath  always  been  taken 
for  granted,  that  the  ideas  of  extension,  figure,  and 
motion,  are  ideas  of  sensation,  which  enter  into 
the  mind  by  the  sense  of  touch,  in  the  same  manner 
as  the  sensation  of  sound  and  smell  do  by  the  ear 
and  nose.  The  sensations  of  touch  are  so  con- 
nected, by  our  constitution,  with  the  notions  of 
extension,  figure,  and  motion,  that  philosophers 
have  mistaken  the  one  for  the  other,  and  never 
have  been  able  to  discern  that  they  were  not  only 
distinct  things,  but  altogether  unlike.  However, 
if  we  will  reason  distinctly  upon  this  subject,  we 
ought  to  give  names  to  those  feelings  of  touch  ; 
we  must  accustom  cmrselves  to  attend  to  them,  and 
to  reflect  upon  them,  that  we  may  be  able  to  disjoin 
them  from,  and  to  compare  them  with,  the  qualities 
signified  or  suggested  by  them. 

The  habit  of  doing  this  is  not  to  be  attained  with- 
out pains  and  practice ;  and  till  a  man  hath  acquired 
this  habit,  it  will  be  impossible  for  him  to  think 
distinctly,  or  to  judge  right,  upon  this  subject. 


REID  83 

Let  a  man  press  hi?,  hand  against  the  table — he 
feels  it  hard.  But  what  is  the  meaning  of  this? 
— The  meaning  undoubtedly  is,  that  he  hath  a 
certain  feeling  of  touch,  from  which  he  concludes, 
without  any  reasoning,  or  comparing  ideas,  that 
there  is  something  external  really  existing,  whose 
parts  stick  so  firmly  together, 'that  they  cannot  be 
displaced  without  considerable  lorce. 

There  is  here  a  feeling,  and  a  conclusion  drawn 
from  it,  or  some  way  suggested  by  it.  In  order 
to  compare  these,  we  must  view  them  separately, 
and  then  consider  by  what  tie  they  are  connected, 
and  wherein  they  resemble  one  another.  The  hard- 
ness of  the  table  is  the  conclusion,  the  feeling  is 
the  medium  by  which  we  are  led  to  that  conclusion. 
Let  a  man  attend  distinctly  to  this  medium,  and  to 
the  conclusion,  and  he  will  perceive  them  to  be  as 
unlike  as  any  two  things  in  nature.  The  one  is  a 
sensation  of  the  mind,  which  can  have  no  existence 
but  in  a  sentient  being  ;  nor  can  it  exist  one  moment 
longer  than  it  is  felt ;  the  other  is  in  the  table,  and 
we  conclude,  without  any  difficulty,  that  it  was  in 
the  table  before  it  was  felt,  and  continues  after 
the  feeling  is  over.  The  one  implies  no  kind  of 
extension,  nor  parts,  nor  cohesion ;  the  other 
implies  all  these.  Both,  indeed,  admit  of  degrees, 
and  the  feeling,  beyond  a  certain  degree,  is  a  species 
of  pain  ;  but  adamantine  hardness  does  not  imply 
the  least  pain. 


84    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

And  as  the  feeling  hath  nG«  similitude  to  hardness, 
so  neither  can  our  reason*  perceive  the  least  tie  or 
connection  between  thtim  ;  nor  will  the  logician 
ever  be  able  to  shew  a  reason  why  we  should  con- 
clude hardness  from  this  feeling,  rather  than  soft- 
ness, or  any  other  quality  whatsoever.  But,  in 
reality,  all  mankind^  are  led  by  their  constitution 
to  conclude  hardness  from  this  feeling. 

The  sensation  of  heat,  and  the  sensation  we  have 
by  pressing  a  hard  body,  are  equally  feelings  ;  nor 
can  we,  by  reasoning,  draw  any  conclusion  from  the 
one  but  what  may  be  drawn  from  the  other  :  but, 
by  our  constitution,  we  conclude  from  the  first  an 
obscure  or  occult  quality,  of  which  we  have  only 
this  relative  conception,  that  it  is  something 
adapted  to  raise  in  us  the  sensation  of  heat ;  from 
the  second,  we  conclude  a  quality  of  which  we  have 
a  clear  and  distinct  conception — to  wit,  the  hardness 
of  the  body.^ 

§  4.  Of  the  Visible  Appearances  of  Objects 

In  this  section  we  must  speak  of  things  which  are 
never  made  the  object  of  reflection,  though  almost 
every  moment  presented  to  the  mind.  Nature 
intended  them  only  for  signs  ;  and  in  the  whole 
course  of  hfe  they  are  put  to  no  other  use.  The 
mind  has  acquired  a  confirmed  and  inveterate  habit 
of  inattention  to  them  ;  for  they  no  sooner  appear, 

^  Ibid.,  pp.  123-125. 


REID  85 

than  quick  as  lightning  the  thing  signified  succeeds, 
and  engrosses  all  our  regard.  They  have  no  name 
in  language  ;  and,  although  we  are  conscious  of  them 
when  they  pass  through  the  mind,  yet  their  passage 
is  so  quick  and  so  famiHar,  that  it  is  absolutely 
unheeded ;  nor  do  they  leave  any  footsteps  of 
themselves,  either  in  the  memory  or  imagination. 
That  this  is  the  case  with  regard  to  the  sensations  of 
touch,  hath  been  shewn  in  the  last  chapter  ;  and 
it  holds  no  less  with  regard  to  the  visible  appear- 
ances of  objects.^ 

By  colour,  all  men,  who  have  not  been  tutored 
by  modern  philosophy,  understand,  not  a  sensation 
of  the  mind,  which  can  have  no  existence  when  it 
is  not  perceived,  but  a  quality  or  modification  of 
bodies,  which  continues  to  be  the  same  whether  it  is 
seen  or  not.  The  scarlet-rose  which  is  before  me, 
is  still  a  scarlet-rose  when  I  shut  my  eyes,  and  was 
so  at  midnight  when  no  eye  saw  it.  The  colour 
remains  when  the  appearance  ceases  ;  it  remains 
the  same  when  the  appearance  changes.  For  when 
I  view  this  scarlet-rose  through  a  pair  of  green 
spectacles,  the  appearance  is  changed  ;  but  I  do  not 
conceive  the  colour  of  the  rose  changed.  To  a 
person  in  the  jaundice,  it  has  still  another  appear- 
ance; but  he  is  easily  convinced  that  the  change 
is  in  his  eye,  and  not  in  the  colour  of  the  object. 
Every  different    degree  of  light  makes  it  have  a 

1  Ibid.,  p.  135. 


86    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

different  appearance,  and  total  darkness  takes 
away  all  appearance,  but  makes  not  the  least 
change  in  the  colour  of  the  body.  We  may,  by  a 
variety  of  optical  experiments,  change  the  appear- 
ance of  figure  and  magnitude  in  a  body,  as  well  as 
that  of  colour  ;  we  may  make  one  body  appear  to 
be  ten.  But  all  men  beheve,  that,  as  a  multiplying 
glass  does  not  really  produce  ten  guineas  out  of  one, 
nor  a  microscope  turn  a  guinea  into  a  ten-pound 
piece,  so  neither  does  a  coloured  glass  change  the 
real  colour  of  the  object  seen  through  it,  when  it 
changes  the  appearance  of  that  colour. 

The  common  language  of  mankind  shews  evi- 
dently, that  we  ought  to  distinguish  between  the 
colour  of  a  body,  which  is  conceived  to  be  a  fixed 
and  permanent  quality  in  the  body,  and  the  appear- 
ance of  that  colour  to  the  eye,  which  may  be  varied 
a  thousand  ways,  by  a  variation  of  the  light,  of 
the  medium,  or  of  the  eye  itself.  The  permanent 
colour  of  the  body  is  the  cause  which,  by  the 
mediation  of  various  kinds  or  degrees  of  light, 
and  of  various  transparent  bodies  interposed, 
produces  all  this  variety  of  appearances.  When  a 
coloured  body  is  presented,  there  is  a  certain 
apparition  to  the  eye,  or  to  the  mind,  which  we 
have  called  the  appearance  of  colour.  Mr  Locke 
calls  it  an  idea  ;  and,  indeed,  it  may  be  called  so 
with  the  greatest  propriety.  This  idea  can  have 
no  existence  but  when  it  is  perceived.     It  is  a  kind 


REID  87 

of  thought,  and  can  only  be  the  act  of  a  percipient 
or  thinking  being.  By  the  constitution  of  our 
nature,  we  were  led  to  conceive  this  idea  as  a  sign  of 
something  external,  and  are  impatient  till  we  learn 
its  meaning.  A  thousand  experiments  for  this 
purpose  are  made  every  day  by  children,  even 
before  they  come  to  the  use  of  reason.  They  look 
at  things,  they  handle  them,  they  put  them  in 
various  positions,  at  different  distances,  and  in 
different  lights.  The  ideas  of  sight,  by  these  means, 
come  to  be  associated  with,  and  readily  to  suggest, 
things  external,  and  altogether  unlike  them.  In 
particular,  that  idea  which  we  have  called  the  appear- 
ance of  colour,  suggests  the  conception  and  belief 
of  some  unknown  quality  in  the  body  which 
occasions  the  idea ;  and  it  is  to  this  quality, 
and  not  to  the  idea,  that  we  give  the  name  of 
colour.^ 

Although  there  is  no  resemblance,  nor,  as  far  as 
we  know,  any  necessary  connection  between  that 
quality  in  a  body  which  we  call  its  colour,  and  the 
appearance  which  that  colour  makes  to  the  eye,  it 
is  quite  otherwise  with  regard  to  its  figure  and 
magnitude.  There  is  certainly  a  resemblance,  and  a 
necessary  connection,  between  the  visible  figure 
and  magnitude  of  a  body,  and  its  real  figure  and 
magnitude ;  no  man  can  give  a  reason  why  a 
scarlet  colour  affects  the  eye  in  the  manner  it  does  ; 

^  Ihid.,  pp.  137-138. 


88     PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

no  man  can  be  sure  that  it  affects  his  eye  in  the  same 
manner  as  it  affects  the  eye  of  another,  and  that  it 
has  the  same  appearance  to  him  as  it  has  to  another 
man  ; — but  we  can  assign  a  reason  why  a  circle 
placed  obliquely  to  the  eye,  should  appear  in  the 
form  of  an  ellipse.  The  visible  figure,  magnitude, 
and  position  may,  by  mathematical  reasoning,  be 
deduced  from  the  real ;  and  it  may  be  demon- 
strated, that  every  eye  that  sees  distinctly  and 
perfectly,  must,  in  the  same  situation,  see  it  under 
this  form,  and  no  other.  Nay,  we  may  venture 
to  afhrm,  that  a  man  born  blind,  if  he  were  in- 
structed in  mathematics,  would  be  able  to  determine 
the  visible  figure  of  a  body,  when  its  real  figure, 
distance,  and  position,  are  given.  ^ 

Since  the  visible  figure  of  bodies  is  a  real  and 
external  object  to  the  eye,  as  their  tangible  figure 
is  to  the  touch,  it  may  be  asked.  Whence  arises 
the  difficulty  of  attending  to  the  first,  and  the 
facility  of  attending  to  the  last  ?  It  is  certain  that 
the  first  is  more  frequently  presented  to  the  eye, 
than  the  last  is  to  the  touch  ;  the  first  is  as  distinct 
and  determinate  an  object  as  the  last,  and  seems 
in  its  own  nature  as  proper  for  speculation.  Yet  so 
little  hath  it  been  attended  to,  that  it  never  had  a 
name  in  any  language,  until  Bishop  Berkeley  gave  it 
that  which  we  have  used  after  his  example,  to  distin- 
guish it  from  the  figure  which  is  the  object  of  touch. 

^  Ibid.,  pp.  142-143. 


REID  89 

The  difficulty  of  attending  to  the  visible  figure  of 
bodies,  and  making  it  an  object  of  thought,  appears 
so  similar  to  that  which  we  find  in  attending  to  our 
sensations,  that  both  have  probably  like  causes. 
Nature  intended  the  visible  figure  as  a  sign  of  the 
tangible  figure  and  situation  of  bodies,  and  hath 
taught  us,  by  a  kind  of  instinct,  to  put  it  always 
to  this  use.  Hence  it  happens,  that  the  mind  passes 
over  it  with  a  rapid  motion,  to  attend  to  the  things 
signified  by  it.  It  is  as  unnatural  to  the  mind 
to  stop  at  the  visible  figure,  and  attend  to  it,  as  it 
is  to  a  spherical  body  to  stop  upon  an  inclined 
plane.  There  is  an  inward  principle,  which  con- 
stantly carries  it  forward,  and  which  cannot  be 
overcome  but  by  a  contrary  force. ^ 

§  5.  Of  Perception  in  General 

Sensation,  and  the  perception  of  external  objects 
by  the  senses,  though  very  different  in  their  nature, 
have  commonly  been  considered  as  one  and  the 
same  thing.  The  purposes  of  common  life  do  not 
make  it  necessary  to  distinguish  them,  and  the 
received  opinions  of  philosophers  tend  rather  to 
confound  them  ;  but,  without  attending  carefully 
to  this  distinction,  it  is  impossible  to  have  any  just 
conception  of  the  operations  of  our  senses.  The 
most  simple  operations  of  the  mind,  admit  not  of 
a  logical  definition  :    all  we  can  do  is  to  describe 

^  Ihid.,  p.  146. 


90     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

them,  so  as  to  lead  those  who  are  conscious  of  them 
in  themselves,  to  attend  to  them,  and  reflect  upon 
them ;  and  it  is  often  very  difficult  to  describe 
them  so  as  to  answer  this  intention. 

The  same  mode  of  expression  is  used  to  denote 
sensation  and  perception  ;  and,  therefore,  we  are 
apt  to  look  upon  them  as  things  of  the  same  nature. 
Thus,  I  feel  a  pain  ;  I  see  a  tree  :  the  first  denoteth 
a  sensation,  the  last  a  perception.  The  gram- 
matical analysis  of  both  expressions  is  the  same  : 
for  both  consist  of  an  active  verb  and  an  object. 
But,  if  we  attend  to  the  things  signified  by  these 
expressions,  we  shall  find  that,  in  the  first,  the 
distinction  between  the  act  and  the  object  is  not 
real  but  grammatical ;  in  the  second,  the  distinc- 
tion is  not  only  grammatical  but  real. 

The  form  of  the  expression,  /  feel  pain,  might 
seem  to  imply  that  the  feeling  is  something  distinct 
from  the  pain  felt ;  yet,  in  reality,  there  is  no 
distinction.  As  thinking  a  thought  is  an  expression 
which  could  signify  no  more  than  thinking,  so 
feeling  a  fain  signifies  no  more  than  being  pained. 
What  we  have  said  of  pain  is  applicable  to  every 
other  mere  sensation.  It  is  difficult  to  give  in- 
stances, very  few  of  our  sensations  having  names ; 
and,  where  they  have,  the  name  being  common 
to  the  sensation,  and  to  something  else  which  is 
associated  with  it.  But,  when  we  attend  to  the 
sensation   by   itself,    and   separate   it   from   other 


REID  91 

things  which  are  conjoined  with  it  in  the  imagina- 
tion, it  appears  to  be  something  which  can  have  no 
existence  but  in  a  sentient  mind,  no  distinction  from 
the  act  of  the  mind  by  which  it  is  felt. 

Perception,  as  we  here  understand  it,  hath  always 
an  object  distinct  from  the  act  by  which  it  is 
perceived;  an  object  which  may  exist  whether  it 
be  perceived  or  not.  I  perceive  a  tree  that  grows 
before  my  window  ;  there  is  here  an  object  which  is 
perceived,  and  an  act  of  the  mind  by  which  it  is 
perceived  ;  and  these  two  are  not  only  distinguish- 
able, but  they  are  extremely  unlike  in  their  natures. 
The  object  is  made  up  of  a  trunk,  branches,  and 
leaves  ;  but  the  act  of  the  mind  by  which  it  is 
perceived  hath  neither  trunk,  branches,  nor  leaves. 
I  am  conscious  of  this  act  of  my  mind,  and  I  can 
reflect  upon  it ;  but  it  is  too  simple  to  admit  of  an 
analysis,  and  I  cannot  find  proper  words  to  describe 
it.  I  find  nothing  that  resembles  it  so  much  as 
the  remembrance  of  the  tree,  or  the  imagination  of 
it.  Yet  both  these  differ  essentially  from  percep- 
tion ;  they  differ  likewise  one  from  another.  It  is 
in  vain  that  a  philosopher  assures  me,  that  the 
imagination  of  the  tree,  the  remembrance  of  it, 
and  the  perception  of  it,  are  all  one,  and  differ  only 
in  degree  of  vivacity.  I  know  the  contrary  ;  for 
I  am  as  well  acquainted  with  all  the  three  as  I  am 
with  the  apartments  of  my  own  house.  I  know 
this  also,  that  the  perception  of  an  object  implies 


92     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

both  a  conception  of  its  form,  and  a  belief  of  its 
present  existence.  I  know,  moreover,  that  this 
behef  is  not  the  effect  of  argumentation  and  reason- 
ing ;   it  is  the  immediate  effect  of  my  constitution. 

I  am  aware  that  this  belief  which  I  have  in 
perception  stands  exposed  to  the  strongest  batteries 
of  scepticism.  But  they  make  no  great  impression 
upon  it.  The  sceptic  asks  me.  Why  do  you  believe 
the  existence  of  the  external  object  which  you 
perceive  ?  This  belief,  sir,  is  none  of  my  manu- 
facture ;  it  came  from  the  mint  of  Nature  ;  it  bears 
her  image  and  superscription  ;  and,  if  it  is  not  right, 
the  fault  is  not  mine  :  I  even  took  it  upon  trust, 
and  without  suspicion.  Reason,  says  the  sceptic, 
is  the  only  judge  of  truth,  and  you  ought  to  throw 
off  every  opinion  and  every  belief  that  is  not 
grounded  on  reason.  Why,  sir,  should  I  believe 
the  faculty  of  reason  more  than  that  of  perception  ? 
— they  came  both  out  of  the  same  shop,  and  were 
made  by  the  same  artist ;  and  if  he  puts  one  piece 
of  false  ware  into  my  hands,  what  should  hinder 
him  from  putting  another  ?^ 

Our  perceptions  are  of  two  kinds  :  some  are 
natural  and  original ;  others  acquired,  and  the 
fruit  of  experience.  When  I  perceive  that  this  is 
the  taste  of  cyder,  that  of  brandy  ;  that  this  is  the 
smell  of  an  apple,  that  of  an  orange  ;  that  this  is 
the  noise  of  thunder,  that  the  ringing  of  bells  ;  this 
1  Ibid.,  pp.  182-183. 


REID  93 

the  sound  of  a  coach  passing,  that  the  voice  of  such 
a  friend  :  these  perceptions,  and  others  of  the  same 
kind,  are  not  original — they  are  acquired.  But 
the  perception  which  I  have,  by  touch,  of  the  hard- 
ness and  softness  of  bodies,  of  their  extension, 
figure,  and  motion,  is  not  acquired — it  is  original. 

In  all  our  senses,  the  acquired  perceptions  are 
many  more  than  the  original,  especially  in  sight. 
By  this  sense  we  perceive  originally  the  visible 
figure  and  colour  of  bodies  only,  and  their  visible 
place  :  but  we  learn  to  perceive  by  the  eye  almost 
everything  which  we  can  perceive  by  touch.  The 
original  perceptions  of  this  sense  serve  only  as  signs 
to  introduce  the  acquired. 

The  signs  by  which  objects  are  presented  to  us 
in  perception,  are  the  language  of  Nature  to  man  ; 
and  as,  in  many  respects,  it  hath  great  affinity  with 
the  language  of  man  to  man,  so  particularly  in  this, 
that  both  are  partly  natural  and  original,  partly 
acquired  by  custom.  Our  original  or  natural 
perceptions  are  analogous  to  the  natural  language 
of  man  to  man,  of  which  we  took  notice  in  the 
fourth  chapter  ;  and  our  acquired  perceptions  are 
analogous  to  artificial  language,  which,  in  our 
mother-tongue,  is  got  very  much  in  the  same 
manner  with  our  acquired  perceptions — as  we  shall 
afterwards  more  fully  explain. 

Not  only  men,  but  children,  idiots,  and  brutes, 
acquire  by  habit  many  perceptions  which  they  had 


94    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

not  originally.  Almost  every  employment  in  life 
hath  perceptions  of  this  kind  that  are  peculiar  to  it. 
The  shepherd  knows  every  sheep  of  his  flock,  as 
we  do  our  acquaintance,  and  can  pick  them  out  of 
another  flock  one  by  one.  The  butcher  knows  by 
sight  the  weight  and  quality  of  his  beeves  and  sheep 
before  they  are  killed.  The  farmer  perceives  by 
his  eye,  very  nearly,  the  quantity  of  hay  in  a  rick, 
or  of  corn  in  a  heap.  The  sailor  sees  the  burthen, 
the  build,  and  the  distance  of  a  ship  at  sea,  while 
she  is  a  great  way  off.  Every  man  accustomed  to 
writing,  distinguishes  his  acquaintance  by  their 
handwriting,  as  he  does  by  their  faces.  And  the 
painter  distinguishes,  in  the  works  of  his  art,  the 
style  of  all  the  great  masters.  In  a  word,  acquired 
perception  is  very  different  in  different  persons, 
according  to  the  diversity  of  objects  about  which 
they  are  employed,  and  the  application  they 
bestow  in  observing  them. 

Perception  ought  not  only  to  be  distinguished 
from  sensation,  but  likewise  from  that  knowledge 
of  the  objects  of  sense  which  is  got  by  reasoning. 
There  is  no  reasoning  in  perception,  as  hath  been 
observed.  The  belief  which  is  implied  in  it,  is  the 
eflect  of  instinct.  But  there  are  many  things,  with 
regard  to  sensible  objects,  which  we  can  infer  from 
what  we  perceive ;  and  such  conclusions  of  reason 
ought  to  be  distinguished  from  what  is  merely 
perceived.     When  I  look  at  the  moon,  I  perceive 


REID  95 

her  to  be  sometimes  circular,  sometimes  horned, 
and  sometimes  gibbous.  This  is  simple  perception, 
and  is  the  same  in  the  philosopher  and  in  the  clown  : 
but  from  these  various  appearances  of  her  enlight- 
ened part,  I  infer  that  she  is  really  of  a  spherical 
figure.  This  conclusion  is  not  obtained  by  simple 
perception,  but  by  reasoning.  Simple  perception 
has  the  same  relation  to  the  conclusions  of  reason 
drawn  from  our  perceptions,  as  the  axioms  in 
mathematics  have  to  the  propositions.  I  cannot 
demonstrate  that  two  quantities  which  are  equal 
to  the  same  quantity,  are  equal  to  each  other  ; 
neither  can  I  demonstrate  that  the  tree  which  I 
perceive,  exists.  But,  by  the  constitution  of  my 
nature,  my  belief  is  irresistibly  carried  along  by  my 
apprehension  of  the  axiom ;  and,  by  the  constitu- 
tion of  my  nature,  my  belief  is  no  less  irresistibly 
carried  along  by  my  perception  of  the  tree.  All 
reasoning  is  from  principles.  The  first  principles 
of  mathematical  reasoning  are  mathematical 
axioms  and  definitions  ;  and  the  first  principles 
of  all  our  reasoning  about  existences,  are  our 
perceptions.  The  first  principles  of  every  kind  of 
reasoning  are  given  us  by  Nature,  and  are  of  equal 
authority  with  the  faculty  of  reason  itself,  which 
is  also  the  gift  of  Nature.  The  conclusions  of 
reason  are  all  built  upon  first  principles,  and  can 
have  no  other  foundation.  Most  justly,  therefore, 
do  such  principles  disdain  to  be  tried  by  reason,  and 


96    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

laugh  at  all  the  artillery  of  the  logician,  when  it  is 
directed  against  them. 

When  a  long  train  of  reasoning  is  necessary  in 
demonstrating  a  mathematical  proposition,  it  is 
easily  distinguished  from  an  axiom  ;  and  they  seem 
to  be  things  of  a  very  different  nature.  But  there 
are  some  propositions  which  lie  so  near  to  axioms 
that  it  is  difficult  to  say  whether  they  ought  to  be 
held  as  axioms,  or  demonstrated  as  propositions. 
The  same  thing  holds  with  regard  to  perception,  and 
the  conclusions  drawn  from  it.  Some  of  these 
conclusions  follow  our  perceptions  so  easily,  and  are 
so  immediately  connected  with  them,  that  it  is 
difficult  to  fix  the  limit  which  divides  the  one  from 
the  other. 

Perception,  whether  original  or  acquired,  implies 
no  exercise  of  reason  ;  and  is  common  to  men, 
children,  idiots,  and  brutes.  The  more  obvious 
conclusions  drawn  from  our  perceptions,  by  reason, 
make  what  we  call  common  understanding ;  by 
which  men  conduct  themselves  in  the  common 
affairs  of  life,  and  by  which  they  are  distinguished 
from  idiots.  The  more  remote  conclusions  which 
are  drawn  from  our  perceptions,  by  reason,  make 
what  we  commonly  call  science  in  the  various  parts 
of  nature,  whether  in  agriculture,  medicine, 
mechanics,  or  in  any  part  of  natural  philosophy. 
When  I  see  a  garden  in  good  order,  containing  a 
great  variety  of  things  of  the  best  kinds,  and  in 


REID  97 

the  most  flourishing  condition,  I  immediately 
conclude  from  these  signs  the  skill  and  industry 
of  the  gardener.  A  farmer,  when  he  rises  in  the 
morning,  and  perceives  that  the  neighbouring 
brook  overflows  his  field,  concludes  that  a  great 
deal  of  rain  hath  fallen  in  the  night.  Perceiving 
his  fence  broken,  and  his  corn  trodden  down,  he 
concludes  that  some  of  his  own  or  his  neighbours' 
cattle  have  broke  loose.  Perceiving  that  his 
stable  door  is  broke  open,  and  some  of  his  horses 
gone,  he  concludes  that  a  thief  has  carried  them  off. 
He  traces  the  prints  of  his  horses'  feet  in  the  soft 
ground,  and  by  them  discovers  which  road  the  thief 
hath  taken.  These  are  instances  of  common 
understanding,  which  dwells  so  near  to  perception 
that  it  is  difficult  to  trace  the  line  which  divides  the 
one  from  the  other.  In  like  manner,  the  science 
of  nature  dwells  so  near  to  common  understanding 
that  we  cannot  discern  where  the  latter  ends  and 
the  former  begins.  I  perceive  that  bodies  lighter 
than  water  swim  in  water,  and  that  those  which  are 
heavier  sink.  Hence  I  conclude,  that,  if  a  body 
remains  wherever  it  is  put  under  water,  whether  at 
the  top  or  bottom,  it  is  precisely  of  the  same  weight 
with  water.  If  it  will  rest  only  when  part  of  it  is 
above  water,  it  is  lighter  than  water.  And  the 
greater  the  part  above  water  is,  compared  with  the 
whole,  the  lighter  is  the  body.  If  it  had  no  gravity 
at  all,  it  would  make  no  impression  upon  the  water, 

7 


98     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

but  stand  wholly  above  it.  Thus,  every  man,  by 
common  understanding,  has  a  rule  by  which  he 
judges  of  the  specific  gravity  of  bodies  which  swim 
in  water  :  and  a  step  or  two  more  leads  him  into 
the  science  of  hydrostatics. 

All  that  we  know  of  nature,  or  of  existences,  may 
be  compared  to  a  tree,  which  hath  its  root,  trunk, 
and  branches.  In  this  tree  of  knowledge,  per- 
ception is  the  root,  common  understanding  is  the 
trunk,  and  the  sciences  are  the  branches. 

§  6.  Of  the  Process  of  Nature  in  Perception 

Although  there  is  no  reasoning  in  perception, 
yet  there  are  certain  means  and  instruments, 
which,  by  the  appointment  of  nature,  must  inter- 
vene between  the  object  and  our  perception  of  it  ; 
and,  by  these,  our  perceptions  are  limited  and 
regulated.  First,  If  the  object  is  not  in  contact 
with  the  organ  of  sense,  there  must  be  some  medium 
which  passes  between  them.  Thus,  in  vision,  the 
rays  of  light ;  in  hearing,  the  vibrations  of  elastic 
air  ;  in  smelling,  the  effluvia  of  the  body  smelled — 
must  pass  from  the  object  to  the  organ  ;  otherwise 
we  have  no  perception.  Secondly,  There  must  be 
some  action  or  impression  upon  the  organ  of  sense, 
either  by  the  immediate  application  of  the  object, 
or  by  the  medium  that  goes  between  them. 
Thirdly,  The  nerves  which'  go  from  the  brain  to 
the  organ  must  receive  some  impression  by  means 


REID  99 

of  that  which  was  made  upon  the  organ  ;  and, 
probably,  by  means  of  the  nerves,  some  impression 
must  be  made  upon  the  brain.  Fourthly,  The 
impression  made  upon  the  organ,  nerves,  and  brain, 
is  followed  by  a  sensation.  And,  last  of  all.  This 
sensation  is  followed  by  the  perception  of  the  object. 

Thus,  our  perception  of  objects  is  the  result  of  a 
train  of  operations  ;  some  of  which  affect  the  body 
only,  others  affect  the  mind.  We  know  very  little 
of  the  nature  of  some  of  these  operations  ;  we  know 
not  at  all  how  they  are  connected  together,  or  in 
what  way  they  contribute  to  that  perception  which 
is  the  result  of  the  whole  ;  but,  by  the  laws  of  our 
constitution,  we  perceive  objects  in  this,  and  in  no 
other  way.^ 

Experience  teaches  us,  that  certain  impressions 
upon  the  body  are  constantly  followed  by  certain 
sensations  of  the  mind  ;  and  that,  on  the  other 
hand,  certain  determinations  of  the  mind  are 
constantly  followed  by  certain  motions  of  the  body  ; 
but  we  see  not  the  chain  that  ties  these  things 
together.  Who  knows  but  their  connection  may 
be  arbitrary,  and  owing  to  the  will  of  our  Maker  ? 
Perhaps  the  same  sensations  might  have  been  con- 
nected with  other  impressions,  or  other  bodily 
organs.  Perhaps  we  might  have  been  so  made  as 
to  taste  with  our  fingers,  to  smell  with  our  ears, 
and  to  hear  by  the  nose.     Perhaps  we  might  have 

1  Ihid.,  pp.  184-186. 


100     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

been  so  made  as  to  have  all  the  sensations  and 
perceptions  which  we  have,  without  any  impression 
made  upon  our  bodily  organs  at  all. 

However  these  things  may  be,  if  Nature  had  given 
us  nothing  more  than  impressions  made  upon  the 
body,  and  sensations  in  our  minds  corresponding 
to  them,  we  should,  in  that  case,  have  been  merely 
sentient,  but  not  percipient  beings.  We  should 
never  have  been  able  to  form  a  conception  of  any 
external  object,  far  less  a  belief  of  its  existence. 
Our  sensations  have  no  resemblance  to  external 
objects  ;  nor  can  we  discover,  by  our  reason,  any 
necessary  connection  between  the  existence  of 
the  former,  and  that  of  the  latter.^ 

Appendix:  Of  Cause  and  Power 

It  is  proper  here  to  explain  what  is  meant  by 
the  cause  of  a  phenomenon,  when  that  word  is  used 
in  natural  philosophy.  The  word  cause  is  so  am- 
biguous, that  I  fear  many  mistake  its  meaning, 
and  take  it  to  mean  the  efficient  cause,  which  I 
think  it  never  does  in  this  science. 

By  the  cause  of  a  phenomenon,  nothing  is  meant 
but  the  law  of  nature,  of  which  that  phenomenon 
is  an  instance,  or  a  necessary  consequence.  The 
cause  of  a  body's  faUing  to  the  ground  is  its  gravity. 
But  gravity  is  not  an  efficient  cause,  but  a  general 
law,  that  obtains  in  nature,  of  which  law  the  fall 

*  Ibid.,  p.  187. 


RE  ID  loi 

of  this  body  is  a  particular  instance.  The  cause 
why  a  body  projected  moves  in  a  parabola,  is,  that 
this  motion  is  the  necessary  consequence  of  the  pro- 
jectile force  and  gravity  united.  But  these  are 
not  efficient  causes  ;  they  are  only  laws  of  nature. 
In  natural  philosophy,  therefore,  we  seek  only  the 
general  laws,  according  to  which  nature  works, 
and  these  we  call  the  causes  of  what  is  done  accord- 
ing to  them.  But  such  laws  cannot  be  the  efficient 
cause  of  anything.  They  are  only  the  rule  accord- 
ing to  which  the  efficient  cause  operates. 

A  natural  philosopher  may  search  after  the  cause 
of  a  law  of  nature ;  but  this  means  no  more  than 
searching  for  a  more  general  law,  which  includes 
that  particular  law,  and  perhaps  many  others  under 
it.  This  was  all  that  Newton  aimed  at  by  his 
ether.  He  thought  it  possible,  that,  if  there  was 
such  an  ether,  the  gravitation  of  bodies,  the  re- 
flection and  refraction  of  the  rays  of  light,  and  many 
other  laws  of  nature,  might  be  the  necessary  con- 
sequences of  the  elasticity  and  repelling  force  of 
the  ether.  But,  supposing  this  ether  to  exist,  its 
elasticity  and  repelling  force  must  be  considered 
as  a  law  of  nature  ;  and  the  efficient  cause  of  this 
elasticity  would  still  have  been  latent. 

Efficient  causes,  properly  so  called,  are  not 
\vithin  the  sphere  of  natural  philosophy.  Its 
business  is,  from  particular  facts  in  the  material 
world,  to  collect,  by  just  induction,  the  laws  that 


jp2.r,Smf.0^pPHW  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

are  general,  and  from  these  the  more  general,  as 
far  as  we  can  go.  And  when  this  is  done,  natural 
philosophy  has  no  more  to  do.  It  exhibits  to  our 
view  the  grand  machine  of  the  material  world, 
analysed,  as  it  were,  and  taken  to  pieces,  with  the 
connections  and  dependencies  of  its  several  parts, 
and  the  laws  of  its  several  movements.  It  belongs 
to  another  branch  of  philosophy  to  consider  whether 
this  machine  is  the  work  of  chance  or  of  design, 
and  whether  of  good  or  of  bad  design  ;  whether 
there  is  not  an  intelligent  first  Mover  who  con- 
trived the  whole,  and  gives  motion  to  the  whole, 
according  to  the  laws  which  the  natural  philosopher 
has  discovered,  or,  perhaps,  according  to  laws 
still  more  general,  of  which  we  can  only  discover 
some  branches  ;  and  whether  he  does  these  things 
by  his  own  hand,  so  to  speak,  or  employs  sub- 
ordinate efficient  causes  to  execute  his  purposes. 
These  are  very  noble  and  important  inquiries,  but 
they  do  not  belong  to  natural  philosophy  ;  nor 
can  we  proceed  in  them  in  the  way  of  experiment 
and  induction,  the  only  instruments  the  natural 
philosopher  uses  in  his  researches. 

Whether  you  call  this  branch  of  philosophy 
Natural  Theology  or  Metaphysics,  I  care  not ;  but 
I  think  it  ought  not  to  be  confounded  with  Natural 
Philosophy ;  and  neither  of  them  with  Mathe- 
matics. Let  the  mathematician  demonstrate  the 
relation  of  abstract  quantity  ;    the  natural  philo- 


REID  103 

sopher  investigate  the  laws  of  the  material  system 
by  induction  ;  and  the  metaphysician,  the  final 
causes,  and  the  efficient  causes  of  what  we  see  and 
what  natural  philosophy  discovers  in  the  world  we 
live  in. 

As  to  final  causes,  they  stare  us  in  the  face 
wherever  we  cast  our  eyes.  I  can  no  more  doubt 
whether  the  eye  was  made  for  the  purpose  of  seeing, 
and  the  ear  of  hearing,  than  I  can  doubt  of  a  mathe- 
matical axiom  ;  yet  the  evidence  is  neither  mathe- 
matical demonstration,  nor  is  it  induction.  In  a 
word,  final  causes,  good  final  causes,  are  seen 
plainly  everywhere  :  in  the  heavens  and  in  the  earth  ; 
in  the  constitution  of  every  animal,  and  in  our  own 
constitution  of  body  and  of  mind ;  and  they  are 
most  worthy  of  observation,  and  have  a  charm 
in  them  that  delights  the  soul. 

As  to  efficient  causes,  I  am  afraid  our  faculties 
carry  us  but  a  very  little  way,  and  almost  only  to 
general  conclusions.  I  hold  it  to  be  self-evident, 
that  every  production,  and  every  change  in  nature, 
must  have  an  efficient  cause  that  has  power  to 
produce  the  effect ;  and  that  an  effect  which  has 
the  most  manifest  marks  of  intelligence,  wisdom, 
and  goodness,  must  have  an  intelligent,  wise,  and 
good  efficient  cause.  From  these,  and  some  such 
self-evident  truths,  we  may  discover  the  principles 
of  natural  theology,  and  that  the  Deity  is  the  first 
efficient    cause    of    all    nature.     But    how    far    he 


104    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

operates  in  nature  immediately,  or  how  far  by  the 
ministry  of  subordinate  efficient  causes,  to  which  he 
has  given  power  adequate  to  the  task  committed 
to  them,  I  am  afraid  our  reason  is  not  able  to  dis- 
cover, and  we  can  do  little  else  than  conjecture. 
We  are  led  by  nature  to  believe  ourselves  to  be  the 
efficient  causes  of  our  own  voluntary  actions  ;  and, 
from  analogy,  we  judge  the  same  of  other  intelhgent 
beings.  But  with  regard  to  the  works  of  nature, 
I  cannot  recollect  a  single  instance  wherein  I  can 
say,  with  any  degree  of  assurance,  that  such  a 
thing  is  the  efficient  cause  of  such  a  phenomenon 
of  nature. 

I  never  could  see  good  reason  to  believe  that 
matter  has  any  active  power  at  all.  And,  indeed, 
if  it  were  evident  that  it  has  one,  I  think  there  could 
be  no  good  reason  assigned  for  not  allowing  it 
others.  Your  Lordship  speaks  of  the  power  of 
resisting  motion,  and  some  others,  as  acknowledged 
active  powers  inherent  in  matter.  As  to  the  re- 
sistance to  motion,  and  the  continuance  in  motion, 
I  never  could  satisfy  myself  whether  these  are  not 
the  necessary  consequences  of  matter  being  inactive. 
If  they  imply  activity,  they  may  lie  in  some  other 
cause. 

I  am  not  able  to  form  any  distinct  conception 
of  active  power  but  such  as  I  find  in  myself.  I  can 
only  exert  my  active  power  by  will,  which  supposes 
thought.     It  seems  to  me,  that,  if  I  was  not  con- 


REID  105 

scious  of  activity  in  myself,  I  could  never,  from 
things  I  see  about  me,  have  had  the  conception 
or  idea  of  active  power.  I  see  a  succession  of 
changes,  but  I  see  not  the  power,  that  is,  the 
efficient  cause  of  them  ;  but,  having  got  the  notion 
of  active  power,  from  the  consciousness  of  my 
own  activity,  and  finding  it  a  first  principle,  that 
every  production  requires  active  power,  I  can 
reason  about  an  active  power  of  that  kind  I  am 
acquainted  with — that  is,  such  as  supposes  thought 
and  choice,  and  is  exerted  by  will.  But,  if  there 
is  anything  in  an  unthinking  inanimate  being  that 
can  be  called  active  power,  I  know  not  what  it  is, 
and  cannot  reason  about  it. 

If  you  conceive  that  the  activity  of  matter  is 
directed  by  thought  and  will  in  matter,  every 
particle  of  matter  must  know  the  situation  and  dis- 
tance of  every  other  particle  within  the  planetary 
system  ;  but  this,  I  am  apt  to  think,  is  not  your 
Lordship's  opinion. 

I  must  therefore  conclude,  that  this  active  power 
is  guided  in  all  its  operations  by  some  intelligent 
Being,  who  knows  both  the  law  of  gravitation,  and 
the  distance  and  situation  of  every  particle  of  matter 
with  regard  to  every  other  particle,  in  all  the 
changes  that  happen  in  the  material  world.  I  can 
only  conceive  two  ways  in  which  this  particle  of 
matter  can  be  guided,  in  all  the  exertions  of  its 
active  power,  by  an  intelligent  Being.     Either  it 


io6    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

was  formed,  in  its  creation,  upon  a  foreknowledge 
of  all  the  situations  it  shall  ever  be  in  with  respect 
to  other  particles,  and  had  such  an  internal  struc- 
ture given  it,  as  necessarily  produces,  in  succession, 
all  the  motions,  and  tendencies  to  motion,  it  shall 
ever  exert.  This  would  make  every  particle  of 
matter  a  machine  or  automaton,  and  every  particle 
of  a  different  structure  from  every  other  particle 
in  the  universe.  This  is  indeed  the  opinion  of  Leib- 
nitz ;  but  I  am  not  prejudiced  against  it  upon  that 
account ;  I  only  wished  to  know  whether  your 
Lordship  adopted  it  or  not.  Another  way,  and  the 
only  other  way,  in  which  I  can  conceive  the  active 
power  of  a  particle  of  matter,  guided  by  an  intelli- 
gent Being,  is  by  a  continual  influence  exerted 
according  to  its  situation  and  the  situation  of  other 
particles.  In  this  case,  the  particle  would  be 
guided  as  a  horse  is  by  his  rider  ;  and  I  think  it 
would  be  improper  to  ascribe  to  it  the  power  of 
gravitation.  It  has  only  the  power  of  obeying  its 
guide.  Whether  your  Lordship  chooses  the  first 
or  the  last  in  this  alternative,  I  should  be  glad  to 
know ;  or  whether  you  can  think  of  a  third  way 
better  than  either.  ^ 

The  ambiguity  of  the  words  power,  cause,  agent, 
and  of  all  the  words  related  to  these,  tends  to 
perplex   this  question.     The   weakness   of  human 

1  "  Letter  to  Lord  Kames,"  i6th  Dec.  1780  {Works,  vol.  i. 
pp.  56-59). 


REID  107 

understanding,  which  gives  us  only  an  indirect  and 
relative  conception  of  power,  contributes  to  darken 
our  reasoning,  and  should  make  us  cautious  and 
modest  in  our  determinations. 

We  can  derive  little  light  in  this  matter  from  the 
events  which  we  observe  in  the  course  of  nature. 
We  perceive  changes  innumerable  in  things  without 
us.  We  know  that  those  changes  must  be  pro- 
duced by  the  active  power  of  some  agent  ;  but  we 
neither  perceive  the  agent  nor  the  power,  but  the 
change  only.  Whether  the  things  be  active,  or 
merely  passive,  is  not  easily  discovered.  And 
though  it  may  be  an  object  of  curiosity  to  the 
speculative  few,  it  does  not  greatly  concern  the 
many. 

From  the  course  of  events  in  the  natural  world, 
we  have  sufficient  reason  to  conclude  the  existence 
of  an  eternal  intelligent  First  Cause.  But  whether 
He  acts  immediately  in  the  production  of  those 
events,  or  by  subordinate  intelligent  agents,  or  by 
instruments  that  are  unintelligent,  and  what  the 
number,  the  nature,  and  the  different  offices,  of 
those  agents  or  instruments  may  be — these  I 
apprehend  to  be  mysteries  placed  beyond  the  limits 
of  human  knowledge.  We  see  an  established  order 
in  the  succession  of  natural  events,  but  we  see  not 
the  bond  that  connects  them  together. 

Since  we  derive  so  little  light,  with  regard  to 
efficient  causes  and  their  active  power,  from  atten- 


io8    PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

tion  to  the  natural  world,  let  us  next  attend  to  the 
moral,  I  mean  to  human  actions  and  conduct. 

When  I  observe  a  plant  growing  from  its  seed  to 
maturity,  I  know  that  there  must  be  a  cause  that 
has  power  to  produce  this  effect.  But  I  see  neither 
the  cause  nor  the  manner  of  its  operation. 

But,  in  certain  motions  of  my  body  and  directions 
of  my  thought,  I  know  not  only  that  there  must  be  a 
cause  that  has  power  to  produce  these  effects,  but 
that  I  am  that  cause  ;  and  I  am  conscious  of  what 
I  do  in  order  to  the  production  of  them. 

From  the  consciousness  of  our  own  activity, 
seems  to  be  derived  not  only  the  clearest,  but  the 
only  conception  we  can  form  of  activity,  or  the 
exertion  of  active  power. 

As  I  am  unable  to  form  a  notion  of  any  intellect- 
ual power  different  in  kind  from  those  I  possess,  the 
same  holds  with  respect  to  active  power.  If  all 
men  had  been  blind,  we  should  have  had  no  con- 
ception of  the  power  of  seeing,  nor  any  name  for  it 
in  language.  If  man  had  not  the  powers  of  ab- 
straction and  reasoning,  we  could  not  have  had  any 
conception  of  these  operations.  In  like  manner, 
if  he  had  not  some  degree  of  active  power,  and  if 
he  were  not  conscious  of  the  exertion  of  it  in  his 
voluntary  actions,  it  is  probable  he  could  have  no 
conception  of  activity,  or  of  active  power. 

A  train  of  events  following  one  another  ever  so 
regularly,  could  never  lead  us  to  the  notion  of  a 


REID  109 

cause,  if  we  had  not,  from  our  constitution,  a  con- 
viction of  the  necessity  of  a  cause  to  every  event. 

And  of  the  manner  in  which  a  cause  may  exert 
its  active  power,  we  can  have  no  conception,  but 
from  consciousness  of  the  manner  in  which  our 
active  power  is  exerted. 

Every  man  is  led  by  nature  to  attribute  to 
himself  the  free  determinations  of  his  own  will,  and 
to  believe  those  events  to  be  in  his  power  which 
depend  upon  his  will.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is 
self-evident,  that  nothing  is  in  our  power  that  is  not 
subject' to  our  will. 

We  grow  from  childhood  to  manhood,  we  digest 
our  food,  our  blood  circulates,  our  heart  and 
arteries  beat,  we  are  sometimes  sick  and  sometimes 
in  health  ;  all  these  things  must  be  done  by  the 
power  of  some  agent ;  but  they  are  not  done  by 
our  power.  How  do  we  know  this  ?  Because  they 
are  not  subject  to  our  will.  This  is  the  infallible 
criterion  by  which  we  distinguish  what  is  our  doing 
from  what  is  not ;  what  is  in  our  power  from  what 
is  not. 

Human  power,  therefore,  can  only  be  exerted  by 
will,  and  we  are  unable  to  conceive  any  active  power 
to  be  exerted  without  will.  Every  man  knows 
infallibly  that  what  is  done  by  his  conscious  will 
and  intention,  is  to  be  imputed  to  him,  as  the  agent 
or  cause ;  and  that  whatever  is  done  without  his  will 
and  intention,  cannot  be  imputed  to  him  with  truth. 


no     PHILOSOPHY    OF  COMMON  SENSE 

We  judge  of  the  actions  and  conduct  of  other  men 
by  the  same  rule  as  we  judge  of  our  own.  In 
morals,  it  is  self-evident  that  no  man  can  be  the 
object  either  of  approbation  or  of  blame  for  what 
he  did  not.  But  how  shall  we  know  whether 
it  is  his  doing  or  not  ?  If  the  action  depended 
upon  his  will,  and  if  he  intended  and  willed  it,  it  is 
his  action  in  the  judgment  of  all  mankind.  But 
if  it  was  done  without  his  knowledge,  or  without 
his  will  and  intention,  it  is  as  certain  that  he  did  it 
not,  and  that  it  ought  not  to  be  imputed  to  him  as 
the  agent. 

Now  it  is  evident  that,  to  constitute  the  relation 
between  me  and  my  action,  my  conception  of  the 
action,  and  will  to  do  it,  are  essential.  For  what  I 
never  conceived  nor  willed,  I  never  did. 

If  any  man,  therefore,  affirms,  that  a  being  may 
be  the  efficient  cause  of  an  action,  and  have  power 
to  produce  it,  which  that  being  can  neither  conceive 
nor  will,  he  speaks  a  language  which  I  do  not 
understand.  If  he  has  a  meaning,  his  notion  of 
power  and  efficiency  must  be  essentially  different 
from  mine  ;  and,  until  he  conveys  his  notion  of 
efficiency  to  my  understanding,  I  can  no  more 
assent  to  his  opinion  than  if  he  should  affirm  that 
a  being  without  life  may  feel  pain. 

It  seems,  therefore,  to  me  most  probable,  that 
such  beings  only  as  have  some  degree  of  under- 
standing and  will,  can  possess  active  power ;    and 


REID  III 

that  inanimate  beings  must  be  merely  passive,  and 
have  no  real  activity.  Nothing  we  perceive  with- 
out us  affords  any  good  ground  for  ascribing  active 
power  to  any  inanimate  being  ;  and  everything  we 
can  discover  in  our  own  constitution,  leads  us  to 
think  that  active  power  cannot  be  exerted  without 
will  and  intelligence. ^ 

IV.— THE  OPERATIONS   OF  THE   MIND 

§  I.  Principles  taken  for  Granted 

As  there  are  words  common  to  philosophers  and 
to  the  vulgar,  which  need  no  explication,  so  there 
are  principles  common  to  both,  which  need  no 
proof,  and  which  do  not  admit  of  direct  pxoof.^ 

I.  First,  then,  I  shall  take  it  for  granted,  that 
I  think,  that  I  rememher,  that  I  reason,  and,  in 
general,  that  I  really  perform  all  those  operations 
of  mind  of  which  I  am  conscious. 

The  operations  of  our  minds  are  attended  with 
consciousness  ;  and  this  consciousness  is  the  evi- 
dence, the  only  evidence,  which  we  have  or  can 
have  of  their  existence.  If  a  man  should  take  it 
into  his  head  to  think  or  to  say  that  his  consciousness 
may  deceive  him,  and  to  require  proof  that  it  cannot, 
I  know  of  no  proof  that  can  be  given  him  ;  he  must 

1  "  Essays  on  the  Active  Powers  of  Man  "  {Works,  vol.  ii. 
pp.  522-525). 

2  "  Essays  on  the  Intellectual  Powers  of  Man  "  {Works,  vol.  i. 
p.  230). 


112     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

be  left  to  himself,  as  a  man  that  denies  first  prin- 
ciples, without  which  there  can  be  no  reasoning. 
Every  man  finds  himself  under  a  necessity  of  believ- 
ing what  consciousness  testifies,  and  everything  that 
hath  this  testimony  is  to  be  taken  as  a  first  principle. 

2.  As  by  consciousness  we  know  certainly  the 
existence  of  our  present  thoughts  and  passions  ; 
so  we  know  the  past  by  remembrance.  And,  when 
they  are  recent,  and  the  remembrance  of  them 
fresh,  the  knowledge  of  them,  from  such  distinct 
remembrance,  is,  in  its  certainty  and  evidence, 
next  to  that  of  consciousness. 

3.  But  it  is  to  be  observed  that  we  are  conscious 
of  many  things  to  which  we  give  little  or  no 
attention.  .We  can  hardly  attend  to  several  things 
at  the  same  time  ;  and  our  attention  is  commonly 
employed  about  that  which  is  the  object  of  our 
thought,  and  rarely  about  the  thought  itself.  Thus, 
when  a  man  is  angry,  his  attention  is  turned  to  the 
injury  done  him,  or  the  injurious  person  ;  and  he 
gives  very  little  attention  to  the  passion  of  anger, 
although  he  is  conscious  of  it.  It  is  in  our  power, 
however,  when  we  come  to  the  years  of  under- 
standing, to  give  attention  to  our  own  thoughts  and 
passions,  and  the  various  operations  of  our  minds. 
And,  when  we  make  these  the  objects  of  our  atten- 
tion, either  while  they  are  present  or  when  they 
are  recent  and  fresh  in  our  memory,  this  act  of  the 
mind  is  called  reflection. 


REID  113 

We  take  it  for  granted,  therefore,  that,  by  atten- 
tive reflection,  a  man  may  have  a  clear  and  certain 
knowledge  of  the  operations  of  his  own  mind ;  a 
knowledge  no  less  clear  and  certain  than  that  which 
he  has  of  an  external  object  when  it  is  set  before 
his  eyes. 

This  reflection  is  a  kind  of  intuition,  it  gives  a 
like  conviction  with  regard  to  internal  objects,  or 
things  in  the  mind,  as  the  faculty  of  seeing  gives 
with  regard  to  objects  of  sight.  A  man  must, 
therefore,  be  convinced  beyond  possibility  of  doubt, 
of  everything  with  regard  to  the  operations  of  his 
own  mind,  which  he  clearly  and  distinctly  discerns 
by  attentive  reflection. 

4.  I  take  it  for  granted  that  all  the  thoughts  I  am 
conscious  of,  or  remember,  are  the  thoughts  of  one 
and  the  same  thinking  principle,  which  I  call 
myself,  or  my  mind.  Every  man  has  an  immediate 
and  irresistible  conviction,  not  only  of  his  present 
existence,  but  of  his  continued  existence  and 
identity,  as  far  back  as  he  can  remember.  If  any 
man  should  think  fit  to  demand  a  proof  that  the 
thoughts  he  is  successively  conscious  of,  belong  to 
one  and  the  same  thinking  principle — if  he  should 
demand  a  proof  that  he  is  the  same  person  to-day 
as  he  was  yesterday,  or  a  year  ago — I  know  no  proof 
that  can  be  given  him :  he  must  be  left  to  himself, 
either  as  a  man  that  is  lunatic,  or  as  one  who  denies 
first  principles,  and  is  not  to  be  reasoned  with. 

8 


114    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

Every  man  of  a  sound  mind,  finds  himself  under 
a  necessity  of  believing  his  own  identity,  and  con- 
tinued existence.  The  conviction  of  this  is  imme- 
diate and  irresistible ;  and,  if  he  should  lose  this 
conviction,  it  would  be  a  certain  proof  of  insanity, 
which  is  not  to  be  remedied  by  reasoning. 

5.  I  take  it  for  granted,  that  there  are  some 
things  which  cannot  exist  by  themselves,  but  must 
be  in  something  else  to  which  they  belong,  as 
qualities,  or  attributes. 

Thus,  motion  cannot  exist,  but  in  something 
that  is  moved.  And  to  suppose  that  there  can  be 
motion  while  everything  is  at  rest,  is  a  gross  and 
palpable  absurdity.  In  Hke  manner,  hardness  and 
softness,  sweetness  and  bitterness,  are  things 
which  cannot  exist  by  themselves  ;  they  are  qual- 
ities of  something  which  is  hard  or  soft,  sweet  or 
bitter.  That  thing,  whatever  it  be,  of  which  they 
eire  qualities,  is  called  their  subject ;  and  such 
qualities  necessarily  suppose  a  subject. 

Things  which  may  exist  by  themselves,  and  do 
not  necessarily  suppose  the  existence  of  anything 
else,  are  called  substances  ;  and,  with  relation  to 
the  qualities  or  attributes  that  belong  to  them, 
they  are  called  the  subjects  of  such  quahties  or 
attributes. 

All  the  things  which  we  immediately  perceive 
by  our  senses,  and  all  the  things  we  are  conscious 
of,  are  things  which  must  be  in  something  else,  as 


REID  115 

their  subject.  Thus,  by  my  senses,  I  perceive 
figure,  colour,  hardness,  softness,  motion,  resistance, 
and  such  like  things.  But  these  are  qualities,  and 
must  necessarily  be  in  something  that  is  figured, 
coloured,  hard  or  soft,  that  moves,  or  resists.  It 
is  not  to  these  qualities,  but  to  that  which  is  the 
subject  of  them,  that  we  give  the  name  of  body. 
If  any  man  should  think  fit  to  deny  that  these 
things  are  qualities,  or  that  they  require  any 
subject,  I  leave  him  to  enjoy  his  opinion  as  a  man 
who  denies  first  principles,  and  is  not  fit  to  be 
reasoned  with.  If  he  has  common  understanding, 
he  will  find  that  he  cannot  converse  half  an  hour 
without  saying  things  which  imply  the  contrary  of 
what  he  professes  to  believe. 

In  like  manner,  the  things  I  am  conscious  of,  such 
as  thought,  reasoning,  desire,  necessarily  suppose 
something  that  thinks,  that  reasons,  that  desires. 
We  do  not  give  the  name  of  mind  to  thought, 
reason,  or  desire  ;  but  to  that  being  which  thinks, 
which  reasons,  and  which  desires. 

That  every  act  or  operation,  therefore,  supposes 
an  agent,  that  every  quahty  supposes  a  subject, 
are  things  which  I  do  not  attempt  to  prove,  but 
take  for  granted.^ 

6.  I  take  it  for  granted,  that,  in  most  operations 
of  the  mind,  there  must  be  an  object  distinct  from 
the  operation  itself.  I  cannot  see,  without  seeing 
^  Ibid.,  p.  232. 


ii6     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

something.  To  see  without  having  any  object  of 
sight  is  absurd.  I  cannot  remember,  without 
remembering  something.  The  thing  remembered 
is  past,  while  the  remembrance  of  it  is  present ; 
and,  therefore,  the  operation  and  the  object  of  it 
must  be  distinct  things* 

7.  We  ought  Hkewise  to  take  for  granted,  as  first 
principles,  things  wherein  we  find  an  universal 
agreement,  among  the  learned  and  unlearned,  in  the 
different  nations  and  ages  of  the  world. 

8.  I  need  hardly  say  that  I  shall  also  take  for 
granted  such  facts  as  are  attested  to  the  conviction 
of  all  sober  and  reasonable  men,  either  by  our  senses, 
by  memory,  or  by  human  testimony.^ 

Upon  the  whole,  I  acknowledge  that  we  ought 
to  be  cautious  that  we  do  not  adopt  opinions  as 
first  principles  which  are  not  entitled  to  that 
character.  But  there  is  surely  the  least  danger 
of  men's  being  imposed  upon  in  this  way,  when  such 
principles  openly  lay  claim  to  the  character,  and 
are  thereby  fairly  exposed  to  the  examination 
of  those  who  may  dispute  their  authority.  We  do 
not  pretend  that  those  things  that  are  laid  down 
as  first  principles  may  not  be  examined,  and  that 
we  ought  not  to  have  our  ears  open  to  what  may  be 
pleaded  against  their  being  admitted  as  such. 
Let  us  deal  with  them  as  an  upright  judge  does 
with  a  witness  who  has  a  fair  character.     He  pays 

1  Ibid.,  p.  233. 


REID  117 

a  regard  to  the  testimony  of  such  a  witness  while 
his  character  is  unimpeached ;  but,  if  it  can  be 
shown  that  he  is  suborned,  or  that  he  is  influenced 
by  malice  or  partial  favour,  his  testimony  loses  all 
its  credit,  and  is  justly  rejected.^ 

§  2.  Of  Hypotheses  and  Analogy 

Let  us  lay  down  this  as  a  fundamental  principle 
in  our  inquiries  into  the  structure  of  the  mind  and 
its  operation — that  no  regard  is  due  to  the  con- 
jectures or  hypotheses  of  philosophers,  however 
ancient,  however  generally  received.  Let  us  accus- 
tom ourselves  to  try  every  opinion  by  the  touch- 
stone of  fact  and  experience.  What  can  fairly  be 
deduced  from  facts  duly  observed  or  sufficiently 
attested,  is  genuine  and  pure  ;  it  is  the  voice  of 
God,  and  no  fiction  of  human  imagination. 

If  a  philosopher,  therefore,  pretends  to  shew  us 
the  cause  of  any  natural  effect,  whether  relating 
to  matter  or  to  mind,  let  us  first  consider  whether 
there  is  sufficient  evidence  that  the  cause  he  assigns 
does  really  exist.  If  there  is  not,  reject  it  with 
disdain,  as  a  fiction  which  ought  to  have  no  place 
in  genuine  philosophy.  If  the  cause  assigned 
really  exists,  consider,  in  the  next  place,  whether 
the  effect  it  is  brought  to  explain  necessarily 
follows  from  it.  Unless  it  has  these  two  conditions, 
it  is  good  for  nothing.  ^ 

1  Ibid.,  p.  234.  2  Ibid.,  p.  236. 


ii8     PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

The  conclusion  I  would  draw  from  all  that  has 
been  said  on  analogy,  is,  that,  in  our  inquiries 
concerning  the  mind  and  its  operations,  we  ought 
never  to  trust  to  reasonings  drawn  from  some 
supposed  similitude  of  body  to  mind  ;  and  that  we 
ought  to  be  very  much  upon  our  guard  that  we  be 
not  imposed  upon  by  those  analogical  terms  and 
phrases,  by  which  the  operations  of  the  mind  are 
expressed  in  all  languages.^ 

§  3.  Of  Perception 

If  we  attend  to  that  act  of  our  mind  which  we 
call  the  perception  of  an  external  object  of  sense, 
we  shall  find  in  it  these  three  things  : — First,  Some 
conception  or  notion  of  the  object  perceived ; 
Secondly,  A  strong  and  irresistible  conviction  and 
belief  of  its  present  existence  ;  and,  Thirdly,  That 
this  conviction  and  belief  are  immediate,  and  not 
the  effect  of  reasoning. 

First,  It  is  impossible  to  perceive  an  object 
without  having  some  notion  or  conception  of  that 
which  we  perceive.  We  may,  indeed,  conceive  an 
object  which  we  do  not  perceive ;  but,  when  we 
perceive  the  object,  we  must  have  some  perception 
of  it  at  the  same  time  ;  and  we  have  commonly  a 
more  clear  and  steady  notion  of  the  object  while  we 
perceive  it,  than  we  have  from  memory  or  imagina- 
tion when  it  is  not  perceived.     Yet,  even  in  per- 

>  Ibid.,  p.  238. 


REID  119 

ception,  the  notion  which  our  senses  give  of  the 
object  may  be  more  or  less  clear,  more  or  less 
distinct,  in  all  possible  degrees. 

Thus  we  see  more  distinctly  an  object  at  a  small 
than  at  a  great  distance.  An  object  at  a  great  dis- 
tance is  seen  more  distinctly  in  a  clear  than  in  a 
foggy  day.  An  object  seen  indistinctly  with  the 
naked  eye,  on  account  of  its  smallness,  may  be  seen 
distinctly  with  a  microscope.  The  objects  in  this 
room  will  be  seen  by  a  person  in  the  room  less  and 
less  distinctly  as  the  light  of  the  day  fails  ;  they 
pass  through  all  the  various  degrees  of  distinct- 
ness according  to  the  degrees  of  the  light,  and, 
at  last,  in  total  darkness  they  are  not  seen  at 
all.  What  has  been  said  of  the  objects  of  sight 
is  so  easily  applied  to  the  objects  of  the  other 
senses,  that  the  application  may  be  left  to  the 
reader. 

In  a  matter  so  obvious  to  every  person  capable 
of  reflection,  it  is  necessary  only  farther  to  observe, 
that  the  notion  which  we  get  of  an  object,  merely 
by  our  external  sense,  ought  not  to  be  confounded 
with  that  more  scientific  notion  which  a  man,  come 
to  the  years  of  understanding,  may  have  of  the 
same  object,  by  attending  to  its  various  attributes, 
or  to  its  various  parts,  and  their  relation  to  each 
other,  and  to  the  whole.  Thus,  the  notion  which  a 
child  has  of  a  jack  for  roasting  meat,  will  be  acknow- 
ledged to  be  very  different  from  that  of  a  man  who 


120     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

understands  its  construction,  and  perceives  the 
relation  of  the  parts  to  one  another,  and  to  the 
whole.  The  child  sees  the  jack  and  every  part 
of  it  as  well  as  the  man.  The  child,  therefore, 
has  all  the  notion  of  it  which  sight  gives  ;  whatever 
there  is  more  in  the  notion  which  the  man  forms  of 
it,  must  be  derived  from  other  powers  of  the  mind, 
which  may  afterwards  be  explained.  This  observa- 
tion is  made  here  only  that  we  may  not  confound 
the  operations  of  different  powers  of  the  mind, 
which  by  being  always  conjoined  after  we  grow 
up  to  understanding,  are  apt  to  pass  for  one  and 
the  same. 

Secondly,  In  perception  we  not  only  have  a 
notion  more  or  less  distinct  of  the  object  perceived, 
but  also  an  irresistible  conviction  and  belief  of  its 
existence.  This  is  always  the  case  when  we  are 
certain  that  we  perceive  it.  There  may  be  a  per- 
ception so  faint  and  indistinct  as  to  leave  us  in 
doubt  whether  we  perceive  the  object  or  not.  Thus, 
when  a  star  begins  to  twinkle  as  the  light  of  the  sun 
withdraws,  one  may,  for  a  short  time,  think  he 
sees  it  without  being  certain,  until  the  perception 
acquire  some  strength  and  steadiness.  When  a 
ship  just  begins  to  appear  in  the  utmost  verge  of  the 
horizon,  we  may  at  first  be  dubious  whether  we 
perceive  it  or  not ;  but  when  the  perception  is  in 
any  degree  clear  and  steady,  there  remains  no  doubt 
of  its  reality  ;   and  when  the  reality  of  the  percep- 


REID  121 

tion  is  ascertained,  the  existence  of  the  object 
perceived  can  no  longer  be  doubted.^ 

I  observed,  Thirdly,  That  this  conviction  is  not 
only  irresistible,  but  it  is  immediate ;  that  is,  it  is 
not  by  a  train  of  reasoning  and  argumentation  that 
we  come  to  be  convinced  of  the  existence  of  what  we 
perceive ;  we  ask  no  argument  for  the  existence  of  the 
object, but  that  we  perceive  it;  perception  commands 
our  belief  upon  its  own  authority,  and  disdains  to 
rest  its  authority  upon  any  reasoning  whatsoever. 

The  conviction  of  a  truth  may  be  irresistible, 
and  yet  not  immediate.  Thus,  my  conviction 
that  the  three  angles  of  every  plain  triangle  are 
equal  to  two  right  angles,  is  irresistible,  but  it  is  not 
immediate  ;  I  am  convinced  of  it  by  demonstrative 
reasoning.  There  are  other  truths  in  mathematics 
of  which  we  have  not  only  an  irresistible  but  an 
immediate  conviction.  Such  are  the  axioms.  Our 
belief  of  the  axioms  in  mathematics  is  not  grounded 
upon  argument — arguments  are  grounded  upon 
them  ;  but  their  evidence  is  discerned  immediately 
by  the  human  understanding. 

It  is,  no  doubt,  one  thing  to  have  an  immediate 
conviction  of  a  self-evident  axiom  ;  it  is  another 
thing  to  have  an  immediate  conviction  of  the 
existence  of  what  we  see  ;  but  the  conviction  is 
equally  immediate  and  equally  irresistible  in  both 
cases.  2 

1  Ibid.,  p.  258.  2  ii,icl.,  pp.  259-260. 


122     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

§  4.  Of  Sensation 

Almost  all  our  perceptions  have  corresponding 
sensations  which  constantly  accompany  them,  and, 
on  that  account,  are  very  apt  to  be  confounded  with 
them.  Neither  ought  we  to  expect  that  the  sensa- 
tion, and  its  corresponding  perception,  should  be 
distinguished  in  common  language,  because  the 
purposes  of  common  life  do  not  require  it.  Lan- 
guage is  made  to  serve  the  purposes  of  ordinary 
conversation  ;  and  we  have  no  reason  to  expect 
that  it  should  make  distinctions  that  are  not  of 
common  use.  Hence  it  happens,  that  a  quality 
perceived,  and  the  sensation  corresponding  to  that 
perception,  often  go  under  the  same  name. 

This  makes  the  names  of  most  of  our  sensations 
ambiguous,  and  this  ambiguity  hath  very  much  per- 
plexed philosophers.  It  will  be  necessary  to  give 
some  instances,  to  illustrate  the  distinction  between 
our  sensations  and  the  objects  of  perception. 

When  I  smell  a  rose,  there  is  in  this  operation 
both  sensation  and  perception.  The  agreeable 
odour  I  feel,  considered  by  itself,  without  relation 
to  any  external  object,  is  merely  a  sensation.  It 
affects  the  mind  in  a  certain  way  ;  and  this  affection 
of  the  mind  may  be  conceived,  without  a  thought 
of  the  rose,  or  any  other  object.  This  sensation 
can  be  nothing  else  than  it  is  felt  to  be.  Its  very 
essence  consists  in  being  felt ;    and,  when  it  is  not 


REID  123 

felt,  it  is  not.  There  is  no  difference  between  the 
sensation  and  the  feeling  of  it — they  are  one  and 
the  same  thing.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  we  before 
observed  that,  in  sensation,  there  is  no  object  dis- 
tinct from  that  act  of  the  mind  by  which  it  is  felt — 
and  this  holds  true  with  regard  to  all  sensations. 

Let  us  next  attend  to  the  perception  which  we 
have  in  smelling  a  rose.  Perception  has  always 
an  external  object ;  and  the  object  of  my  perception, 
in  this  case,  is  that  quality  in  the  rose  which  I 
discern  by  the  sense  of  smell.  Observing  that  the 
agreeable  sensation  is  raised  when  the  rose  is  near, 
and  ceases  when  it  is  removed,  I  am  led,  by  my 
nature,  to  conclude  some  quality  to  be  in  the  rose, 
which  is  the  cause  of  this  sensation.  This  quality 
in  the  rose  is  the  object  perceived  ;  and  that  act 
of  my  mind  by  which  I  have  the  conviction  and 
belief  of  this  quality,  is  what  in  this  case  I  call 
perception. 

But  it  is  here  to  be  observed,  that  the  sensation 
I  feel,  and  the  quality  in  the  rose  which  I  perceive, 
are  both  called  by  the  same  name.  The  smell  of 
a  rose  is  the  name  given  to  both  :  so  that  this 
name  hath  two  meanings  ;  and  the  distinguishing 
its  different  meaning  removes  all  perplexity,  and 
enables  us  to  give  clear  and  distinct  answers  to 
questions  about  which  philosophers  have  held  much 
dispute. 

Thus,  if  it  is  asked,  whether  the  smell  be  in  the 


124     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

rose,  or  in  the  mind  that  feels  it,  the  answer  is 
obvious :  That  there  are  two  different  things 
signified  by  the  smell  of  a  rose  ;  one  of  which  is  in 
the  mind,  and  can  be  in  nothing  but  in  a  sentient 
being ;  the  other  is  truly  and  properly  in  the  rose. 
The  sensation  which  I  feel  is  in  my  mind.  The 
mind  is  the  sentient  being  ;  and,  as  the  rose  is 
insentient,  there  can  be  no  sensation,  nor  anything 
resembling  sensation  in  it.  But  this  sensation  in 
my  mind  is  occasioned  by  a  certain  quality  in  the 
rose,  which  is  called  by  the  same  name  with  the 
sensation,  not  on  account  of  any  similitude,  but 
because  of  their  constant  concomitancy. 

All  the  names  we  have  for  smells,  tastes,  sounds, 
and  for  the  various  degrees  of  heat  and  cold,  have  a 
like  ambiguity  ;  and  what  has  been  said  of  the  smell 
of  a  rose  may  be  applied  to  them.  They  signify 
both  a  sensation,  and  a  quality  perceived  by  means 
of  that  sensation.  The  first  is  the  sign,  the  last 
the  thing  signified.  As  both  are  conjoined  by 
nature,  and  as  the  purposes  of  common  life  do  not 
require  them  to  be  disjoined  in  our  thoughts,  they 
are  both  expressed  by  the  same  name  :  and  this 
ambiguity  is  to  be  found  in  all  languages,  because 
the  reason  of  it  extends  to  all.^ 

Sensation,  taken  by  itself,  implies  neither  the 
conception  nor  belief  of  any  external  object.  It 
supposes  a  sentient  being,  and  a  certain  manner  in 
^  Ibid.,  p.  310. 


REID  125 

which  that  being  is  affected  ;  but  it  supposes  no 
more.  Perception  implies  an  immediate  conviction 
and  belief  of  something  external  —  something 
different  both  from  the  mind  that  perceives, 
and  from  the  act  of  perception.  Things  so 
different  in  their  nature  ought  to  be  distinguished  ; 
but,  by  our  constitution,  they  are  always  united. 
Every  different  perception  is  conjoined  with  a  sen- 
sation that  is  proper  to  it.  The  one  is  the  sign,  the 
other  the  thing  signified.  They  coalesce  in  our 
imagination.  They  are  signified  by  one  name, 
and  are  considered  as  one  simple  operation.  The 
purposes  of  life  do  not  require  them  to  be  dis- 
tinguished. 

It  is  the  philosopher  alone  who  has  occasion  to 
distinguish  them,  when  he  would  analyse  the  opera- 
tion compounded  of  them.  But  he  has  no  suspicion 
that  there  is  any  composition  in  it ;  and  to  discover 
this  requires  a  degree  of  reflection  which  has  been 
too  little  practised  even  by  philosophers.^ 

§  5.  Of  Primary  and  Secondary  Qualities 

Every  one  knows  that  extension,  divisibility, 
figure,  motion,  solidity,  hardness,  softness,  and 
fluidity,  were  by  Mr  Locke  called  primary  qualities 
of  body ;  and  that  sound,  colour,  taste,  smell, 
and  heat  or  cold,  were  called  secondary  qualities. 
Is  there  a  just   foundation  for  this   distinction  ? 

^  Ibid.,  p.  312. 


126     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

Is  there  anything  common  to  the  primary  which 
belongs  not  to  the  secondary  ?     And  what  is  it  ? 

I  answer,  That  there  appears  to  me  to  be  a  real 
foundation  for  the  distinction  ;  and  it  is  this — 
that  our  senses  give  us  a  direct  and  a  distinct 
notion  of  the  primary  qualities,  and  inform  us  what 
they  are  in  themselves.  But  of  the  secondary 
qualities,  our  senses  give  us  only  a  relative  and  ob- 
scure notion.  They  inform  us  only,  that  they  are 
qualities  that  affect  us  in  a  certain  manner — that 
is,  produce  in  us  a  certain  sensation  ;  but  as  to 
what  they  are  in  themselves,  our  senses  leave  us 
in  the  dark. 

Every  man  capable  of  reflection  may  easily 
satisfy  himself  that  he  has  a  perfectly  clear  and 
distinct  notion  of  extension,  divisibility,  figure,  and 
motion.  The  solidity  of  a  body  means  no  more 
but  that  it  excludes  other  bodies  from  occupying 
the  same  place  at  the  same  time.  Hardness,  soft- 
ness, and  fluidity  are  different  degrees  of  cohesion  in 
the  parts  of  a  body.  It  is  fluid  when  it  has  no 
sensible  cohesion  ;  soft,  when  the  cohesion  is  weak  ; 
and  hard,  when  it  is  strong.  Of  the  cause  of  this 
cohesion  we  are  ignorant,  but  the  thing  itself  we 
understand  perfectly,  being  immediately  informed 
of  it  by  the  sense  of  touch.  It  is  evident,  therefore, 
that  of  the  primary  qualities  we  have  a  clear  and 
distinct  notion ;  we  know  what  they  are,  though 
we  may  be  ignorant  of  their  causes. 


REID  127 

I  observed,  farther,  that  the  notion  we  have  of 
primary  quaUties  is  direct,  and  not  relative  only. 
A  relative  notion  of  a  thing,  is,  strictly  speaking, 
no  notion  of  the  thing  at  all,  but  only  of  some 
relation  which  it  bears  to  something  else. 

Thus,  gravity  sometimes  signifies  the  tendency  of 
bodies  towards  the  earth  ;  sometimes  it  signifies 
the  cause  of  that  tendency.  When  it  means  the 
first,  I  have  a  direct  and  distinct  notion  of  gravity  ; 
I  see  it,  and  feel  it,  and  know  perfectly  what  it  is  ; 
but  this  tendency  must  have  a  cause.  We  give 
the  same  name  to  the  cause  ;  and  that  cause  has 
been  an  object  of  thought  and  of  speculation.  Now, 
what  notion  have  we  of  this  cause  when  we  think 
and  reason  about  it  ?  It  is  evident  we  think  of  it 
as  an  unknown  cause,  of  a  known  effect.  This  is  a 
relative  notion  ;  and  it  must  be  obscure,  because  it 
gives  us  no  conception  of  what  the  thing  is,  but  of 
what  relation  it  bears  to  something  else.  Every 
relation  which  a  thing  unknown  bears  to  something 
that  is  known,  may  give  a  relative  notion  of  it ;  and 
there  are  many  objects  of  thought  and  of  discourse 
of  which  our  faculties  can  give  no  better  than  a 
relative  notion. 

Having  premised  these  things  to  explain  what  is 
meant  by  a  relative  notion,  it  is  evident  that  our 
notion  of  primary  qualities  is  not  of  this  kind ;  we 
know  what  they  are,  and  not  barely  what  relation 
they  bear  to  something  else. 


128     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

It  is  otherwise  with  secondary  qualities.  If  you 
ask  me,  what  is  that  quality  or  modification  in  a 
rose  which  I  call  its  smell,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  answer 
directly.  Upon  reflection,  I  find,  that  I  have  a 
distinct  notion  of  the  sensation  which  it  produces 
in  my  mind.  But  there  can  be  nothing  like  to  this 
sensation  in  the  rose,  because  it  is  insentient.  The 
quality  in  the  rose  is  something  which  occasions 
the  sensation  in  me  ;  but  what  that  something  is, 
I  know  not.  My  senses  give  me  no  information 
upon  this  point.  The  only  notion,  therefore,  my 
senses  give  is  this — that  smell  in  the  rose  is  an  un- 
known quality  or  modification,  which  is  the  cause 
or  occasion  of  a  sensation  which  I  know  well.  The 
relation  which  this  unknown  quality  bears  to  the 
sensation  with  which  nature  hath  connected  it,  is  all 
I  learn  from  the  sense  of  smelling ;  but  this  is 
evidently  a  relative  notion.  The  same  reasoning 
will  apply  to  every  secondary  quality.^ 

§  6.  Of  Conception 

Without  attempting  a  definition  of  this  operation 
of  the  mind,  I  shall  endeavour  to  explain  some 
of  its  properties  ;  consider  the  theories  about  it  ; 
and  take  notice  of  some  mistakes  of  philosophers 
concerning  it. 

It  may  be  observed  that  conception  enters  as  an 
ingredient  in  every  operation  of  the  mind.     Our 

1  Ibid.,  pp.  313-314. 


REID  129 

senses  cannot  give  us  the  belief  of  any  object, 
without  giving  some  conception  of  it  at  the  same 
time.  No  man  can  either  remember  or  reason 
about  things  of  which  he  hath  no  conception.  When 
we  will  to  exert  any  of  our  active  powers,  there  must 
be  some  conception  of  what  we  will  to  do.  There 
can  be  no  desire  nor  aversion,  love  nor  hatred, 
without  some  conception  of  the  object.  We 
cannot  feel  pain  without  conceiving  it,  though  we 
can  conceive  it  without  feeling  it.  These  things 
are  self-evident. 

In  every  operation  of  the  mind,  therefore,  in 
everything  we  call  thought,  there  must  be  concep- 
tion. When  we  analyse  the  various  operations  either 
of  the  understanding  or  of  the  will,  we  shall  always 
find  this  at  the  bottom,  like  the  caput  mortuum  of 
the  chemists,  or  the  materia  prima  of  the  Peripatetics; 
but,  though  there  is  no  operation  of  mind  without 
conception,  yet  it  may  be  found  naked,  detached 
from  all  others,  and  then  it  is  called  simple  appre- 
hension, or  the  bare  conception  of  a  thing. 

As  all  the  operations  of  our  mind  are  expressed 
by  language,  every  one  knows  that  it  is  one  thing 
to  understand  what  is  said,  to  conceive  or  apprehend 
its  meaning,  whether  it  be  a  word,  a  sentence,  or  a 
discourse  ;  it  is  another  thing  to  judge  of  it,  to 
assent  or  dissent,  to  be  persuaded  or  moved.  The 
first  is  simple  apprehension  and  may  be  without  the 
last  ;  but  the  last  cannot  be  without  the  first. 

9 


130    PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

In  bare  conception  there  can  neither  be  truth 
nor  falsehood,  because  it  neither  affirms  nor  denies. 
Every  judgment,  and  every  proposition  by  which 
judgment  is  expressed,  must  be  true  or  false  ;  and 
the  qualities  of  true  and  false,  in  their  proper  sense, 
can  belong  to  nothing  but  to  judgments,  or  to  pro- 
positions which  express  judgment.  In  the  bare 
conception  of  a  thing  there  is  no  judgment,  opinion, 
or  belief  included,  and  therefore  it  cannot  be  either 
true  or  false.  ^ 

If  one  should  ask.  What  is  meant  by  conceiving 
a  thing  ?  we  should  very  naturally  answer,  that  it 
is  having  an  image  of  it  in  the  mind — and  perhaps 
we  could  not  explain  the  word  better.  This  shews 
that  conception,  and  the  image  of  a  thing  in  the 
mind,  are  synonymous  expressions.  The  image  in 
the  mind,  therefore,  is  not  the  object  of  conception, 
nor  is  it  any  effect  produced  by  conception  as  a 
cause.  It  is  conception  itself.  That  very  mode  of 
thinking  which  we  call  conception,  is  by  another 
name  called  an  image  in  the  mind. 

Nothing  more  readily  gives  the  conception  of  a 
thing  than  the  seeing  an  image  of  it.  Hence,  by 
a  figure  common  in  language,  conception  is  called 
an  image  of  the  thing  conceived.  But  to  shew  that 
it  is  not  a  real  but  a  metaphorical  image,  it  is  called 
an  image  in  the  mind.  We  know  nothing  that  is 
properly  in  the  mind  but   thought ;     and,   when 

^  Ibid.,  pp.  360-361. 


REID  131 

anything  else  is  said  to  be  in  the  mind,  the  ex- 
pression must  be  figurative,  and  signify  some  kind 
of  thought.^ 

Imagination,  when  it  is  distinguished  from 
conception,  seems  to  me  to  signify  one  species  of 
conception — to  wit,  the  conception  of  visible 
objects.  Thus,  in  a  mathematical  proposition,  I 
imagine  the  figure,  and  I  conceive  the  demonstra- 
tion ;  it  would  not,  I  think,  be  improper  to  say,  I 
conceive  both  ;  but  it  would  not  be  so  proper  to 
say,  I  imagine  the  demonstration.  ^ 

The  last  property  I  shall  mention  of  this  faculty, 
is  that  which  essentially  distinguishes  it  from  every 
other  power  of  the  mind  ;  and  it  is,  that  it  is  not 
employed  solely  about  things  which  have  existence. 
I  can  conceive  a  winged  horse  or  a  centaur,  as  easily 
and  as  distinctly  as  I  can  conceive  a  man  whom  I 
have  seen.  Nor  does  this  distinct  conception  incline 
my  judgment  in  the  least  to  the  belief  that  a  winged 
horse  or  a  centaur  ever  existed. 

It  is  not  so  with  the  other  operations  of  our 
minds.  They  are  employed  about  real  existences, 
and  carry  with  them  the  belief  of  their  objects. 
When  I  feel  pain,  I  am  compelled  to  believe  that 
the  pain  that  I  feel  has  a  real  existence.  When 
I  perceive  any  external  object,  my  belief  of  the 
real  existence  of  the  object  is  irresistible.  When  I 
distinctly  remember  any  event,  though  that  event 

1  Ihid.,  p.  363.  2  ii)id,^  pp.  365-366. 


132     PHILOSOPHY  OF   COMMON  SENSE 

may  not  now  exist,  I  can  have  no  doubt  but  it  did 
exist.  That  consciousness  which  we  have  of  the 
operations  of  our  own  minds,  implies  a  belief  of  the 
real  existence  of  those  operations. 

Thus  we  see,  that  the  powers  of  sensation,  of 
perception,  of  memory,  and  of  consciousness,  are 
all  employed  solely  about  objects  that  do  exist,  or 
have  existed.  But  conception  is  often  employed 
about  objects  that  neither  do,  nor  did,  nor  will 
exist.  This  is  the  very  nature  of  this  faculty,  that 
its  object,  though  distinctly  conceived,  may  have 
no  existence.  Such  an  object  we  call  a  creature  of 
imagination  ;   but  this  creature  never  was  created.^ 

§7.  Of  Judgment 

First,  Judgment  is  an  act  of  the  mind,  specifically 
different  from  simple  apprehension,  or  the  bare 
conception  of  a  thing.  It  would  be  unnecessary 
to  observe  this,  if  some  philosophers  had  not  been 
led  by  their  theories  to  a  contrary  opinion. 

Although  there  can  be  no  judgment  without  a 
conception  of  the  things  about  which  we  judge,  yet 
conception  may  be  without  any  judgment.  Judg- 
ment can  be  expressed  by  a  proposition  only,  and 
a  proposition  is  a  complete  sentence ;  but  simple 
apprehension  may  be  expressed  by  a  word  or  words, 
which  make  no  complete  sentence.  When  simple 
apprehension    is    employed    about    a    proposition, 

1  Ibid.,  p.  368. 


REID  133 

every  man  knows  that  it  is  one  thing  to  apprehend 
a  proposition — that  is,  to  conceive  what  it  means — 
but  it  is  quite  another  thing  to  judge  it  to  be  true 
or  false. 

It  is  self-evident  that  every  judgment  must  be 
either  true  or  false  ;  but  simple  apprehension,  or 
conception,  can  neither  be  true  nor  false,  as  was 
shewn  before. 

One  judgment  may  be  contradictory  to  another  ; 
and  it  is  impossible  for  a  man  to  have  two  judgments 
at  the  same  time,  which  he  perceives  to  be  contra- 
dictory. But  contradictory  propositions  may  be 
conceived  at  the  same  time  without  any  difficulty. 
That  the  sun  is  greater  than  the  earth,  and  that  the 
sun  is  not  greater  than  the  earth,  are  contradictory 
propositions.  He  that  apprehends  the  meaning  of 
one,  apprehends  the  meaning  of  both.  But  it  is 
impossible  for  him  to  judge  both  to  be  true  at  the 
same  time.  He  knows  that,  if  the  one  is  true,  the 
other  must  be  false.  For  these  reasons,  I  hold  it  to 
be  certain  that  judgment  and  simple  apprehension 
are  acts  of  the  mind  specifically  different. 

Secondly,  There  are  notions  or  ideas  that  ought  to 
be  referred  to  the  faculty  of  judgment  as  their 
source  ;  because,  if  we  had  not  that  faculty,  they 
could  not  enter  into  our  minds  ;  and  to  those  that 
have  that  faculty,  and  are  capable  of  reflecting  upon 
its  operations,  they  are  obvious  and  familiar. 

Among  these  we  may  reckon  the  notion  of  judg- 


134     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

ment  itself;  the  notions  of  a  proposition — of  its 
subject,  predicate,  and  copula  ;  of  affirmation  and 
negation,  of  true  and  false  ;  of  knowledge,  belief, 
disbelief,  opinion,  assent,  evidence.  From  no  source 
could  we  acquire  these  notions,  but  from  reflecting 
upon  our  judgments.  Relations  of  things  make  one 
great  class  of  our  notions  or  ideas  ;  and  we  cannot 
have  the  idea  of  any  relation  without  some  exercise 
of  judgment,  as  will  appear  afterwards. 

Thirdly,  In  persons  come  to  years  of  under- 
standing, judgment  necessarily  accompanies  all 
sensation,  perception  by  the  senses,  consciousness, 
and  memory,  but  not  conception. 

I  restrict  this  to  persons  come  to  the  years  of 
understanding,  because  it  may  be  a  question, 
whether  infants,  in  the  first  period  of  life,  have  any 
judgment  or  belief  at  all.  The  same  question  may 
be  put  with  regard  to  brutes  and  some  idiots.  This 
question  is  foreign  to  the  present  subject ;  and  I 
say  nothing  here  about  it,  but  speak  only  of  persons 
who  have  the  exercise  of  judgment. 

In  them  it  is  evident  that  a  man  who  feels  pain, 
judges  and  believes  that  he  is  really  pained.  The 
man  who  perceives  an  object,  believes  that  it  exists, 
and  is  what  he  distinctly  perceives  it  to  be  ;  nor  is  it 
in  his  power  to  avoid  such  judgment.  And  the  Hke 
may  be  said  of  memory,  and  of  consciousness. 
Whether  judgment  ought  to  be  called  a  necessary 
concomitant  of  these  operations,  or  rather  a  part 


REID  135 

or  ingredient  of  them,  I  do  not  dispute  ;  but  it  is 
certain  that  all  of  them  are  accompanied  with  a 
determination  that  something  is  true  or  false,  and 
a  consequent  belief.  If  this  determination  be  not 
judgment,  it  is  an  operation  that  has  got  no  name  ; 
for  it  is  not  simple  apprehension,  neither  is  it 
reasoning  ;  it  is  a  mental  affirmation  or  negation ; 
it  may  be  expressed  by  a  proposition  affirmative  or 
negative,  and  it  is  accompanied  with  the  firmest 
belief.  These  are  the  characteristics  of  judgment ; 
and  I  must  call  it  judgment,  till  I  can  find  another 
name  to  it. 

The  judgments  we  form  are  either  of  things 
necessary,  or  of  things  contingent.  That  three 
times  three  is  nine,  that  the  whole  is  greater  than  a 
part,  are  judgments  about  things  necessary.  Our 
assent  to  such  necessary  propositions  is  not  grounded 
upon  any  operation  of  sense,  of  memory,  or  of  con- 
sciousness, nor  does  it  require  their  concurrence  ; 
it  is  unaccompanied  by  any  other  operation  but 
that  of  conception,  which  must  accompany  all 
judgment ;  we  may  therefore  call  this  judgment 
of  things  necessary  pure  judgment.  Our  judgment 
of  things  contingent  must  always  rest  upon  some 
other  operation  of  the  mind,  such  as  sense,  or 
memory,  or  consciousness,  or  credit  in  testimony, 
which  is  itself  grounded  upon  sense. 

That  I  now  write  upon  a  table  covered  with  green 
cloth,  is  a  contingent  event,  which  I  judge  to  be  most 


136    PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

undoubtedly  true.  My  judgment  is  grounded  upon 
my  perception,  and  is  a  necessary  concomitant  or 
ingredient  of  my  perception.  That  I  dined  with 
such  a  company  yesterday,  I  judge  to  be  true, 
because  I  remember  it ;  and  my  judgment  neces- 
sarily goes  along  with  this  remembrance,  or  makes 
a  part  of  it. 

There  are  many  forms  of  speech  in  common 
language  which  shew  that  the  senses,  memory  and 
consciousness,  are  considered  as  judging  faculties. 
We  say  that  a  man  judges  of  colours  by  his  eye,  of 
sounds  by  his  ear.  We  speak  of  the  evidence  of 
sense,  the  evidence  of  memory,  the  evidence  of 
consciousness.  Evidence  is  the  ground  of  judgment; 
and  when  we  see  evidence,  it  is  impossible  not  to 
judge. 

When  we  speak  of  seeing  or  remembering  any- 
thing, we,  indeed,  hardly  ever  add  that  we  judge 
it  to  be  true.  But  the  reason  of  this  appears  to  be, 
that  such  an  addition  would  be  mere  superfluity  of 
speech,  because  every  one  knows  that  what  I  see 
or  remember,  I  must  judge  to  be  true,  and  cannot 
do  otherwise. 

And,  for  the  same  reason,  in  speaking  of  any- 
thing that  is  self-evident  or  strictly  demonstrated, 
we  do  not  say  that  we  judge  it  to  be  true.  This 
would  be  superfluity  of  speech,  because  every  man 
knows  that  we  must  judge  that  to  be  true  which  we 
hold  self-evident  or  demonstrated. 


REID  137 

When  you  say  you  saw  such  a  thing,  or  that 
you  distinctly  remember  it,  or  when  you  say  of 
any  proposition  that  it  is  self-evident,  or  strictly 
demonstrated,  it  would  be  ridiculous  after  this 
to  ask  whether  you  judge  it  to  be  true  ;  nor  would 
it  be  less  ridiculous  in  you  to  inform  us  that  you  do. 
It  would  be  a  superfluity  of  speech  of  the  same  kind 
as  if,  not  content  with  saying  that  you  saw  such 
an  object,  you  should  add  that  you  saw  it  with 
your  eyes. 

There  is,  therefore,  good  reason  why,  in  speaking 
or  writing,  judgment  should  not  be  expressly  men- 
tioned, when  all  men  know  it  to  be  necessarily 
implied  ;  that  is,  when  there  can  be  no  doubt.  In 
such  cases,  we  barely  mention  the  evidence.  But 
when  the  evidence  mentioned  leaves  room  for  doubt, 
then,  without  any  superfluity  or  tautology,  we 
say  we  judge  the  thing  to  be  so,  because  this  is  not 
implied  in  what  was  said  before.  A  woman  with 
child  never  says,  that,  going  such  a  journey,  she 
carried  her  child  along  with  her.  We  know  that, 
while  it  is  in  her  womb,  she  must  carry  it  along  with 
her.  There  are  some  operations  of  mind  that  may 
be  said  to  carry  judgment  in  their  womb,  and  can 
no  more  leave  it  behind  than  the  pregnant  woman 
can  leave  her  child.  Therefore,  in  speaking  of 
such  operations,  it  is  not  expressed.^ 

A  fourth  observation  is,  that  some  exercise    of 

^  Ibid.,  pp.  414-415, 


138    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

judgment  is  necessary  in  the  formation  of  all 
abstract  and  general  conceptions,  whether  more 
simple  or  more  complex  ;  in  dividing,  in  defining, 
and,  in  general,  in  forming  all  clear  and  distinct 
conceptions  of  things,  which  are  the  only  fit 
materials  of  reasoning. 

These  operations  are  allied  to  each  other,  and 
therefore  I  bring  them  under  one  observation. 
They  are  more  allied  to  our  rational  nature  than 
those  mentioned  in  the  last  observation,  and  there- 
fore are  considered  by  themselves. 

That  I  may  not  be  mistaken,  it  may  be  observed 
that  I  do  not  say  that  abstract  notions,  or  other 
accurate  notions  of  things,  after  they  have  been 
formed,  cannot  be  barely  conceived  without  any 
exercise  of  judgment  about  them.  I  doubt  not 
that  they  may  :  but  what  I  say  is,  that,  in  their 
formation  in  the  mind  at  first,  there  must  be  some 
exercise  of  judgment. 

It  is  impossible  to  distinguish  the  different 
attributes  belonging  to  the  same  subject,  without 
judging  that  they  are  really  different  and  dis- 
tinguishable, and  that  they  have  that  relation  to 
the  subject  which  logicians  express,  by  saying 
that  they  may  be  predicated  of  it.  We  cannot 
generalise,  without  judging  that  the  same  attri- 
bute does  or  may  belong  to  many  individuals.  It 
has  been  shewn  that  our  simplest  general  notions 
are  formed  by  these  two  operations  of  distinguishing 


REID  139 

and  generalising  ;    judgment  therefore  is  exercised 
in  forming  the  simplest  general  notions. 

In  those  that  are  more  complex,  and  which  have 
been  shewn  to  be  formed  by  combining  the  more 
simple,  there  is  another  act  of  the  judgment  re- 
quired ;  for  such  combinations  are  not  made  at 
random,  but  for  an  end  ;  and  judgment  is  employed 
in  fitting  them  to  that  end.  We  form  complex 
general  notions  for  conveniency  of  arranging  our 
thoughts  in  discourse  and  reasoning  ;  and,  there- 
fore, of  an  infinite  number  of  combinations  that 
might  be  formed,  we  choose  only  those  that  are 
useful  and  necessary. 

I  add  in  general,  that,  without  some  degree  of 
judgment,  we  can  form  no  accurate  and  distinct 
notions  of  things  ;  so  that  one  province  of  judgment 
is,  to  aid  us  in  forming  clear  and  distinct  concep- 
tions of  things,  which  are  the  only  fit  materials  for 
reasoning. 

This  will  probably  appear  to  be  a  paradox  to 
philosophers,  who  have  always  considered  the 
formation  of  ideas  of  every  kind  as  belonging  to 
simple  apprehension  ;  and  that  the  sole  province 
of  judgment  is  to  put  them  together  in  affirmative 
or  negative  propositions  ;  and  therefore  it  requires 
some  confirmation. 

First,  I  think  it  necessarily  follows,  from  what  has 
been  already  said  in  this  observation.  For  if, 
without    some    degree    of    judgment,    a    man    can 


140    PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

neither  distinguish,  nor  divide,  nor  define,  nor  form 
any  general  notion,  simple  or  complex,  he  surely, 
without  some  degree  of  judgment,  cannot  have  in 
his  mind  the  materials  necessary  to  reasoning. 

There  cannot  be  any  proposition  in  language 
which  does  not  involve  some  general  conception. 
The  proposition,  that  I  exist,  which  Des  Cartes 
thought  the  first  of  all  truths,  and  the  foundation 
of  all  knowledge,  cannot  be  conceived  without  the 
conception  of  existence,  one  of  the  most  abstract 
general  conceptions.  A  man  cannot  believe  his 
own  existence,  or  the  existence  of  anything  he  sees 
or  remembers,  until  he  has  so  much  judgment  as 
to  distinguish  things  that  really  exist  from  things 
which  are  only  conceived.  He  sees  a  man  six  feet 
high  ;  he  conceives  a  man  sixty  feet  high  :  he 
judges  the  first  object  to  exist,  because  he  sees  it ; 
the  second  he  does  not  judge  to  exist,  because  he 
only  conceives  it.  Now,  I  would  ask,  Whether  he 
can  attribute  existence  to  the  first  object,  and  not 
to  the  second,  without  knowing  what  existence 
means  ?     It  is  impossible. 

How  early  the  notion  of  existence  enters  into  the 
mind,  I  cannot  determine  ;  but  it  must  certainly 
be  in  the  mind  as  soon  as  we  can  affirm  of  anything, 
with  understanding,  that  it  exists. 

In  every  other  proposition,  the  predicate,  at 
least,  must  be  a  general  notion — a  predicable  and 
an  universal  being  one  and  the  same.     Besides  this, 


REID  141 

every  proposition  either  affirms  or  denies.  And  no 
man  can  have  a  distinct  conception  of  a  proposition, 
who  does  not  understand  distinctly  the  meaning 
of  affirming  or  denying.  But  these  are  very 
general  conceptions,  and,  as  was  before  observed, 
are  derived  from  judgment,  as  their  source  and 
origin.  1 

The  necessity  of  some  degree  of  judgment  in 
forming  accurate  and  distinct  notions  of  things  will 
farther  appear,  if  we  consider  attentively  what 
notions  we  can  form,  without  any  aid  of  judgment, 
of  the  objects  of  sense,  of  the  operations  of  our  own 
minds,  or  of  the  relations  of  things. 

To  begin  with  the  objects  of  sense.  It  is  acknow- 
ledged, on  all  hands,  that  the  first  notions  we  have 
of  sensible  objects  are  got  by  the  external  senses 
only,  and  probably  before  judgment  is  brought 
forth  ;  but  these  first  notions  are  neither  simple,  nor 
are  they  accurate  and  distinct  :  they  are  gross 
and  indistinct,  and,  like  the  chaos,  a  rudis  in- 
digestaque  moles.  Before  we  can  have  any  distinct 
notion  of  this  mass,  it  must  be  analysed  ;  the  hetero- 
geneous parts  must  be  separated  in  our  conception, 
and  the  simple  elements,  which  before  lay  hid  in 
the  common  mass,  must  first  be  distinguished,  and 
then  put  together  into  one  whole. 

In  this  way  it  is  that  we  form  distinct  notions 
even  of  the  objects  of  sense ;    but  this  process  of 

^  Ibid.,  pp.  416-417, 


142     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

analysis  and  composition,  by  habit,  becomes  so 
easy,  and  is  performed  so  readily,  that  we  are  apt 
to  overlook  it,  and  to  impute  the  distinct  notion 
we  have  formed  of  the  object  to  the  senses  alone  ; 
and  this  we  are  the  more  prone  to  do  because, 
when  once  we  have  distinguished  the  sensible 
qualities  of  the  object  from  one  another,  the  sense 
gives  testimony  to  each  of  them. 

If  we  should  apply  this  reasoning  to  more  com- 
plex objects  of  sense,  the  conclusion  would  be  still 
more  evident.  A  dog  may  be  taught  to  turn  a  jack, 
but  he  can  never  be  taught  to  have  a  distinct 
notion  of  a  jack.  He  sees  every  part  as  well 
as  a  man  ;  but  the  relation  of  the  parts  to  one 
another  and  to  the  whole,  he  has  not  judgment  to 
comprehend. 

A  distinct  notion  of  an  object,  even  of  sense,  is 
never  got  in  an  instant ;  but  the  sense  performs 
its  office  in  an  instant.  Time  is  not  required  to 
see  it  better,  but  to  analyse  it,  to  distinguish  the 
different  parts,  and  their  relation  to  one  another 
and  to  the  whole. 

Hence  it  is  that,  when  any  vehement  passion 
or  emotion  hinders  the  cool  application  of  judg- 
ment, we  get  no  distinct  notion  of  an  object,  even 
though  the  sense  be  long  directed  to  it.  A  man  who 
is  put  into  a  panic,  by  thinking  he  sees  a  ghost, 
may  stare  at  it  long  without  having  any  distinct 
notion   of   it ;    it   is   his    understanding,    and   not 


REID  143 

his  sense,  that  is  disturbed  by  his  horror.  If  he 
can  lay  that  aside,  judgment  immediately  enters 
upon  its  office,  and  examines  the  length  and  breadth, 
the  colour,  and  figure,  and  distance  of  the  object. 
Of  these,  while  his  panic  lasted,  he  had  no  distinct 
notion,  though  his  eyes  were  open  all  the  time. 

When  the  eye  of  sense  is  open,  but  that  of  judg- 
ment shut  by  a  panic,  or  any  violent  emotion  that 
engrosses  the  mind,  we  see  things  confusedly,  and 
probably  much  in  the  same  manner  that  brutes 
and  perfect  idiots  do,  and  infants  before  the  use 
of  judgment. 

Having  said  so  much  of  the  notions  we  get  from 
the  senses  alone  of  the  objects  of  sense,  let  us  next 
consider  what  notions  we  can  have  from  conscious- 
ness alone  of  the  operations  of  our  minds. 

Mr  Locke  very  properly  calls  consciousness  an 
internal  sense.  It  gives  the  like  immediate  know- 
ledge of  things  in  the  mind — that  is,  of  our  own 
thoughts  and  feelings — as  the  senses  give  us  of 
things  external.  There  is  this  difference,  however, 
that  an  external  object  may  be  at  rest,  and  the 
sense  may  be  employed  about  it  for  some  time. 
But  the  objects  of  consciousness  are  never  at  rest  : 
the  stream  of  thought  flows  like  a  river,  without 
stopping  a  moment ;  the  whole  train  of  thought 
passes  in  succession  under  the  eye  of  consciousness, 
which  is  always  employed  about  the  present.  But 
is  it  consciousness  that  analyses  complex  operations. 


144    PHILOSOPHY  OF   COMMON  SENSE 

distinguishes  their  different  ingredients,  and  com- 
bines them  in  distinct  parcels  under  general  names  ? 
This  surely  is  not  the  work  of  consciousness,  nor  can 
it  be  performed  without  reflection,  recollecting  and 
judging  of  what  we  were  conscious  of,  and  dis- 
tinctly remember.  This  reflection  does  not  appear 
in  children.  Of  all  the  powers  of  the  mind,  it  seems 
to  be  of  the  latest  growth,  whereas  consciousness 
is  coeval  with  the  earliest. 

Consciousness,  being  a  kind  of  internal  sense, 
can  no  more  give  us  distinct  and  accurate  notions 
of  the  operations  of  our  minds,  than  the  external 
senses  can  give  of  external  objects.  Reflection  upon 
the  operations  of  our  minds  is  the  same  kind  of 
operation  with  that  by  which  we  form  distinct 
notions  of  external  objects.  They  differ  not  in 
their  nature,  but  in  this  only,  that  one  is  employed 
about  external,  and  the  other  about  internal 
objects  ;  and  both  may,  with  equal  propriety,  be 
called  reflection. 

Mr  Locke  has  restricted  the  word  reflection  to 
that  which  is  employed  about  the  operations  of  our 
minds,  without  any  authority,  as  I  think,  from 
custom,  the  arbiter  of  language.  For,  surely,  I 
may  reflect  upon  what  I  have  seen  or  heard,  as 
well  as  upon  what  I  have  thought.  The  word,  in 
its  proper  and  common  meaning,  is  equally  applic- 
able to  objects  of  sense,  and  to  objects  of  conscious- 
ness.    He  has  likewise  confounded  reflection  with 


REID  145 

consciousness,  and  seems  not  to  have  been  aware 
that  they  are  different  powers,  and  appear  at  very 
different  periods  of  life. 

If  that  eminent  philosopher  had  been  aware  of 
these  mistakes  about  the  meaning  of  the  word 
reflection,  he  would,  I  think,  have  seen  that,  as  it 
is  by  reflection  upon  the  operations  of  our  own  minds 
that  we  can  form  any  distinct  and  accurate  notions 
of  them,  and  not  by  consciousness  without  reflec- 
tion, so  it  is  by  reflection  upon  the  objects  of  sense, 
and  not  by  the  senses  without  reflection,  that  we 
can  form  distinct  .notions  of  them.  Reflection 
upon  anything,  whether  external  or  internal,  makes 
it  an  object  of  our  intellectual  powers,  by  which  we 
survey  it  on  all  sides,  and  form  such  judgments 
about  it  as  appear  to  be  just  and  true. 

I  proposed,  in  the  third  place,  to  consider  our 
notions  of  the  relations  of  things  :  and  here  I 
think,  that,  without  judgment,  we  cannot  have  any 
notion  of  relations. 

There  are  two  ways  in  which  we  get  the  notion 
of  relations.  The  first  is,  by  comparing  the  related 
objects,  when  we  have  before  had  the  conception  of 
both.  By  this  comparison,  we  perceive  the  rela- 
tion, either  immediately,  or  by  a  process  of  reason- 
ing. That  my  foot  is  longer  than  my  finger,  I 
perceive  immediately  ;  and  that  three  is  the  half  of 
six.  This  immediate  perception  is  immediate  and 
intuitive  judgment.     That  the  angles  at  the  base 

10 


146     PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

of  an  isosceles  triangle  are  equal,  I  perceive  by  a 
process  of  reasoning,  in  which  it  will  be  acknow- 
ledged there  is  judgment. 

Another  way  in  which  we  get  the  notion  of 
relations  (which  seems  not  to  have  occurred  to  Mr 
Locke)  is,  when,  by  attention  to  one  of  the  related 
objects,  we  perceive  or  judge  that  it  must,  from  its 
nature,  have  a  certain  relation  to  something  else, 
which  before,  perhaps,  we  never  thought  of ;  and 
thus  our  attention  to  one  of  the  related  objects 
produces  the  notion  of  a  correlate,  and  of  a  certain 
relation  between  them. 

Thus,  when  I  attend  to  colour,  figure,  weight,  I 
cannot  help  judging  these  to  be  qualities  which 
cannot  exist  without  a  subject ;  that  is,  something 
which  is  coloured,  figured,  heavy.  If  I  had  not 
perceived  such  things  to  be  qualities,  I  should 
never  have  had  any  notion  of  their  subject,  or  of 
their  relation  to  it. 

By  attending  to  the  operations  of  thinking, 
memory,  reasoning,  we  perceive  or  judge  that  there 
must  be  something  which  thinks,  remembers,  and 
reasons,  which  we  call  the  mind.  When  we  attend 
to  any  change  that  happens  in  Nature,  judgment 
informs  us  that  there  must  be  a  cause  of  this  change, 
which  had  power  to  produce  it ;  and  thus  we  get 
the  notions  of  cause  and  effect,  and  of  the  relation 
between  them.  When  we  attend  to  body,  we  per- 
ceive that  it  cannot  exist  without  space  ;  hence  we 


REID  147 

get  the  notion  of  space  (which  is  neither  an  object 
of  sense  nor  of  consciousness),  and  of  the  relation 
which  bodies  have  to  a  certain  portion  of  unHmited 
space,  as  their  place. 

I  apprehend,  therefore,  that  all  our  notions  of 
relations  may  more  properly  be  ascribed  to  judgment 
as  their  source  and  origin,  than  to  any  other  power 
of  the  mind.  We  must  first  perceive  relations  by 
our  judgment,  before  we  can  conceive  them  with- 
out judging  of  them  ;  as  we  must  first  perceive 
colours  by  sight,  before  we  can  conceive  them  with- 
out seeing  them.  I  think  Mr  Locke,  when  he  comes 
to  speak  of  the  ideas  of  relations,  does  not  say  that 
they  are  ideas  of  sensation  or  reflection,  but  only 
that  they  terminate  in,  and  are  concerned  about, 
ideas  of  sensation  or  reflection. 

The  notions  of  unity  and  number  are  so  abstract, 
that  it  is  impossible  they  should  enter  into  the  mind 
until  it  has  some  degree  of  judgment.  We  see  with 
what  difficulty,  and  how  slowly,  children  learn  to 
use,  with  understanding,  the  names  even  of  small 
numbers,  and  how  they  exult  in  this  acquisition 
when  they  have  attained  it.  Every  number  is 
conceived  by  the  relation  which  it  bears  to  unity, 
or  to  known  combinations  of  units  ;  and  upOn 
that  account,  as  well  as  on  account  of  its  abstract 
nature,  all  distinct  notions  of  it  require  some 
degree  of  judgment. 

In  its  proper  place,  I  shall  have  occasion  to  shew 


148     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

that  judgment  is  an  ingredient  in  all  determina- 
tions of  taste,  in  all  moral  determinations,  and  in 
many  of  our  passions  and  affections.  So  that  this 
operation,  after  we  come  to  have  any  exercise  of 
judgment,  mixes  with  most  of  the  operations  of 
our  minds,  and,  in  analysing  them,  cannot  be  over- 
looked without  confusion  and  error. ^ 

§  8.  Of  Common  Sense 

All  that  is  intended  in  this  chapter  is  to  explain 
the  meaning  of  common  sense,  that  it  may  not  be 
treated,  as  it  has  been  by  some,  as  a  new  principle, 
or  as  a  word  without  any  meaning.  I  have  en- 
deavoured to  shew  that  sense,  in  its  most  common, 
and  therefore  its  most  proper  meaning,  signifies 
judgment,  though  philosophers  often  use  it  in 
another  meaning.  From  this  it  is  natural  to  think 
that  common  sense  should  mean  common  judgment; 
and  so  it  really  does. 

What  the  precise  limits  are  which  divide 
common  judgment  from  what  is  beyond  it  on 
the  one  hand,  and  from  what  falls  short  of  it 
on  the  other,  may  be  difficult  to  determine  ;  and 
men  may  agree  in  the  meaning  of  the  word  who 
have  different  opinions  about  those  limits,  or  who 
even  never  thought  of  fixing  them.  This  is  as 
intelligible  as,  that  all  Englishmen  should  mean 
the  same  thing  by  the  county   of   York,   though 

1  Ibid.,  pp.  418-421. 


REID  149 

perhaps  not  a  hundredth  part  of  them  can  point 
out  its  precise  Hmits. 

Indeed,  it  seems  to  me,  that  common  sense  is  as 
unambiguous  a  word  and  as  well  understood  as  the 
county  of  York.  We  find  it  in  innumerable  places 
in  good  writers ;  we  hear  it  on  innumerable 
occasions  in  conversation  ;  and,  as  far  as  I  am  able 
to  judge,  always  in  the  same  meaning.  And  this 
is  probably  the  reason  why  it  is  so  seldom  defined 
or  explained. 

Dr  Johnson,  in  the  authorities  he  gives,  to  shew 
that  the  word  sense  signifies  understanding,  sound- 
ness of  faculties,  strength  of  natural  reason,  quotes 
Dr  Bentley  for  what  may  be  called  a  definition  of 
common  sense,  though  probably  not  intended  for 
that  purpose,  but  mentioned  accidentally  :  ''  God 
hath  endowed  mankind  with  power  and  abilities, 
which  we  call  natural  light  and  reason,  and  common 
sense."  ^ 

It  is  absurd  to  conceive  that  there  can  be  any 
opposition  between  reason  and  common  sense. 
It  is  indeed  the  first-born  of  Reason  ;  and,  as  they 
are  commonly  joined  together  in  speech  and  in 
writing,  they  are  inseparable  in  their  nature. 

We  ascribe  to  reason  two  offices,  or  two  degrees. 
The  first  is  to  judge  of  things  self-evident ;  the 
second  to  draw  conclusions  that  are  not  self- 
evident  from  those  that  are.     The  first  of  these 

1  Ibid.,  pp.  422-423. 


150    PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

is  the  province,  and  the  sole  province,  of  common 
sense  ;  and,  therefore,  it  coincides  with  reason  in  its 
whole  extent,  and  is  only  another  name  for  one 
branch  or  one  degree  of  reason.  Perhaps  it  may  be 
said,  Why  then  should  you  give  it  a  particular 
name,  since  it  is  acknowledged  to  be  only  a  degree 
of  reason  ?  It  would  be  a  sufficient  answer  to  this, 
Why  do  you  abolish  a  name  which  is  to  be  found 
in  the  language  of  all  civilized  nations,  and  has 
acquired  a  right  by  prescription  ?  Such  an  attempt 
is  equally  foolish  and  ineffectual.  Every  wise  man 
will  be  apt  to  think  that  a  name  which  is  found  in  all 
languages  as  far  back  as  we  can  trace  them,  is  not 
without  some  use. 

But  there  is  an  obvious  reason  why  this  degree 
of  reason  should  have  a  name  appropriated  to  it ; 
and  that  is,  that,  in  the  greatest  part  of  mankind, 
no  other  degree  of  reason  is  to  be  found.  It  is  this 
degree  that  entitles  them  to  the  denomination  of 
reasonable  creatures.  It  is  this  degree  of  reason, 
and  this  only,  that  makes  a  man  capable  of  manag- 
ing his  own  affairs,  and  answerable  for  his  conduct 
towards  others.  There  is  therefore  the  best  reason 
why  it  should  have  a  name  appropriated  to  it. 

These  two  degrees  of  reason  differ  in  other  re- 
spects, which  would  be  sufficient  to  entitle  them  to 
distinct  names. 

The  first  is  purely  the  gift  of  Heaven.  And 
where  Heaven  has  not  given  it,  no  education  can 


REID  151 

supply  the  want.  The  second  is  learned  by  practice 
and  rules,  when  the  first  is  not  wanting.  A  man  who 
has  common  sense  may  be  taught  to  reason.  But, 
if  he  has  not  that  gift,  no  teaching  will  make  him 
able  either  to  judge  of  first  principles  or  to  reason 
from  them. 

I  have  only  this  farther  to  observe,  that  the 
province  of  common  sense  is  more  extensive 
in  refutation  than  in  confirmation.  A  conclusion 
drawn  by  a  train  of  just  reasoning  from  true 
principles  cannot  possibly  contradict  any  decision 
of  common  sense,  because  truth  will  always  be 
consistent  with  itself.  Neither  can  such  a  con- 
clusion receive  any  confirmation  from  common 
sense,  because  it  is  not  within  its  jurisdiction. 

But  it  is  possible  that,  by  setting  out  from  false 
principles,  or  by  an  error  in  reasoning,  a  man  may 
be  led  to  a  conclusion  that  contradicts  the  decisions 
of  common  sense.  In  this  case,  the  conclusion 
is  within  the  jurisdiction  of  common  sense,  though 
the  reasoning  on  which  it  was  grounded  be  not ;  and 
a  man  of  common  sense  may  fairly  reject  the  con- 
clusion without  being  able  to  shew  the  error  of  the 
reasoning  that  led  to  it. 

Thus,  if  a  mathematician,  by  a  process  of  intricate 
demonstration,  in  which  some  false  step  was  made, 
should  be  brought  to  this  conclusion,  that  two 
quantities,  which  are  both  equal  to  a  third,  are 
not  equal  to  each  other,  a  man  of  common  sense, 


152     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

without  pretending  to  be  a  judge  of  the  demonstra- 
tion, is  well  entitled  to  reject  the  conclusion,  and  to 
pronounce  it  absurd.^ 

§  9.  The  First  Principles  of  Contingent 
Truths 

It  is  necessary  that  the  first  principles  of  know- 
ledge be  distinguished  from  other  truths,  and 
presented  to  view,  that  they  may  be  sifted  and  ex- 
amined on  all  sides.  In  order  to  this  end,  I  shall 
attempt  a  detail  of  those  I  take  to  be  such,  and  of 
the  reasons  why  I  think  them  entitled  to  that 
character. 

If  the  enumeration  should  appear  to  some  re- 
dundant, to  others  deficient,  and  to  others  both — 
if  things  which  I  conceive  to  be  first  principles, 
should  to  others  appear  to  be  vulgar  errors,  or  to 
be  truths  which  derive  their  evidence  from  other 
truths,  and  therefore  not  first  principles — in  these 
things  every  man  must  judge  for  himself.  I  shall 
rejoice  to  see  an  enumeration  more  perfect  in  any  or 
in  all  of  those  respects  ;  being  persuaded  that  the 
agreement  of  men  of  judgment  and  candour  in 
first  principles  would  be  of  no  less  consequence  to 
the  advancement  of  knowledge  in  general,  than 
the  agreement  of  mathematicians  in  the  axioms  of 
geometry  has  been  to  the  advancement  of  that 
science. 

*  Ibid.,  pp.  425-426. 


REID  153 

The  truths  that  fall  within  the  compass  of  human 
knowledge,  whether  they  be  self-evident,  or  deduced 
from  those  that  are  self-evident,  may  be  reduced 
to  two  classes.  They  are  either  necessary  and 
immutable  truths,  whose  contrary  is  impossible  ;  or 
they  are  contingent  and  mutable,  depending  upon 
some  effect  of  will  and  power,  which  had  a  beginning, 
and  may  have  an  end. 

That  a  cone  is  the  third  part  of  a  cylinder  of  the 
same  base  and  the  same  altitude,  is  a  necessary 
truth.  It  depends  not  upon  the  will  and  power  of 
any  being.  It  is  immutably  true,  and  the  contrary 
impossible.  That  the  sun  is  the  centre  about  which 
the  earth,  and  the  other  planets  of  our  system, 
perform  their  revolutions,  is  a  truth  ;  but  it  is  not 
a  necessary  truth.  It  depends  upon  the  power  and 
will  of  that  Being  who  made  the  sun  and  all  the 
planets,  and  who  gave  them  those  motions  that 
seemed  best  to  him. 

As  the  minds  of  men  are  occupied  much  more 
about  truths  that  are  contingent  than  about  those 
that  are  necessary,  I  shall  first  endeavour  to  point 
out  the  principles  of  the  former  kind. 

I.  First,  then,  I  hold,  as  a  first  principle,  the 
existence  of  everything  of  which  I  am  conscious. 

This,  I  think,  is  the  only  principle  of  common 
sense  that  has  never  directly  been  called  in  question. 
It  seems  to  be  so  firmly  rooted  in  the  minds  of 
men,  as  to  retain  its  authority  with  the  greatest 


154     PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

sceptics.  Mr  Hume,  after  annihilating  body  and 
mind,  time  and  space,  action  and  causation,  and 
even  his  own  mind,  acknowledges  the  reality  of  the 
thoughts,  sensations,  and  passions  of  which  he  is 
conscious. 

2.  Another  first  principle,  I  think,  is,  That  the 
thoughts  of  which  I  am  conscious,  are  the  thoughts 
of  a  being  which  I  call  myself,  my  mind,  my  person. 

The  thoughts  and  feelings  of  which  we  are  con- 
scious are  continually  changing,  and  the  thought  of 
this  moment  is  not  the  thought  of  the  last ;  but 
something  which  I  call  myself,  remains  under 
this  change  of  thought.  This  self  has  the  same 
relation  to  all  the  successive  thoughts  I  am  conscious 
of — they  are  all  my  thoughts  ;  and  every  thought 
which  is  not  my  thought,  must  be  the  thought  of 
some  other  person. 

If  any  man  asks  a  proof  of  this,  I  confess  I  can 
give  none  ;  there  is  an  evidence  in  the  proposition 
itself  which  I  am  unable  to  resist.  Shall  I  think 
that  thought  can  stand  by  itself  without  a  thinking 
being  ?  or  that  ideas  can  feel  pleasure  or  pain  ? 
My  nature  dictates  to  me  that  it  is  impossible. 

3.  Another  first  principle  I  take  to  be — That 
those  things  did  really  happen  which  I  distinctly 
remember. 

This  has  one  of  the  surest  marks  of  a  first  principle; 
for  no  man  ever  pretended  to  prove  it,  and  yet  no 
man  in  his  wits  calls  it  in  question  :   the  testimony 


REID  155 

of  memory,  like  that  of  consciousness,  is  immediate  ; 
it  claims  our  assent  upon  its  own  authority. 

4.  Another  first  principle  is,  Our  own  personal 
identity  and  continued  existence,  as  far  back  as 
we  remember  anything  distinctly. 

This  we  know  immediately,  and  not  by  reasoning. 
It  seems,  indeed,  to  be  a  part  of  the  testimony  of 
memory.  Everything  we  remember  has  such  a 
relation  to  ourselves  as  to  imply  necessarily  our 
existence  at  the  time  remembered. 

5.  Another  first  principle  is,  That  those  things 
do  really  exist  which  we  distinctly  perceive  by  our 
senses,  and  are  what  we  perceive  them  to  be. 

It  is  too  evident  to  need  proof,  that  all  men  are 
by  nature  led  to  give  implicit  faith  to  the  distinct 
testimony  of  their  senses,  long  before  they  are 
capable  of  any  bias  from  prejudices  of  education 
or  of  philosophy. 

6.  Another  first  principle,  I  think,  is.  That  we 
have  some  degree  of  power  over  our  actions,  and  the 
determinations  of  our  will. 

All  power  must  be  derived  from  the  fountain  of 
power,  and  of  every  good  gift.  Upon  His  good 
pleasure  its  continuance  depends,  and  it  is  always 
subject  to  His  control. 

Beings  to  whom  God  has  given  any  degree  of 
power,  and  understanding  to  direct  them  to  the 
proper  use  of  it,  must  be  accountable  to  their 
Maker.     But  those  who  are  intrusted  with  no  power 


156    PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

can  have  no  account  to  make  ;  for  all  good  conduct 
consists  in  the  right  use  of  power  ;  all  bad  conduct 
in  the  abuse  of  it. 

7.  Another  first  principle  is — That  the  natural 
faculties,  by  which  we  distinguish  truth  from  error, 
are  not  fallacious.  If  any  man  should  demand 
a  proof  of  this,  it  is  impossible  to  satisfy  him.  For, 
suppose  it  should  be  mathematically  demonstrated, 
this  would  signify  nothing  in  this  case  ;  because,  to 
judge  of  a  demonstration,  a  man  must  trust  his  facul- 
ties, and  take  for  granted  the  very  thing  in  question. 

8.  Another  first  principle  relating  to  existence,  is, 
That  there  is  life  and  intelligence  in  our  fellow-men 
with  whom  we  converse. 

9.  Another  first  principle  I  take  to  be,  that 
certain  features  of  the  countenance,  sounds  of  the 
voice,  and  gestures  of  the  body,  indicate  certain 
thoughts  and  dispositions  of  mind. 

10.  Another  first  principle  appears  to  me  to  be — 
That  there  is  a  certain  regard  due  to  human  testi- 
mony in  matters  of  fact,  and  even  to  human 
authority  in  matters  of  opinion. 

11.  There  are  many  events  depending  upon  the 
will  of  man,  in  which  there  is  a  self-evident  pro- 
bability, greater  or  less,  according  to  circumstances. 

12.  The  last  principle  of  contingent  truths  I 
mention  is.  That,  in  the  phaenomena  of  nature,  what 
is  to  be  will  probably  be  like  to  what  has  been  in 
similar  circumstances. 


REID  157 

We  must  have  this  conviction  as  soon  as  we  are 
capable  of  learning  anything  from  experience  ;  for 
all  experience  is  grounded  upon  a  belief  that  the 
future  will  be  like  the  past.  Take  away  this 
principle,  and  the  experience  of  an  hundred  years 
makes  us  no  wiser  with  regard  to  what  is  to  come. 

This  is  one  of  those  principles  which,  when  we 
grow  up  and  observe  the  course  of  nature,  we  can 
confirm  by  reasoning.  We  perceive  that  Nature  is 
governed  by  fixed  laws,  and  that,  if  it  were  not  so,  there 
could  be  no  such  thing  as  prudence  in  human  conduct ; 
there  would  be  no  fitness  in  any  means  to  promote 
an  end ;  and  what,  on  one  occasion,  promoted  it, 
might  as  probably,  on  another  occasion,  obstruct  it. 

But  the  principle  is  necessary  for  us  before  we  are 
able  to  discover  it  by  reasoning,  and  therefore  is 
made  a  part  of  our  constitution,  and  produces  its 
effects  before  the  use  of  reason. 

I  do  not  at  all  affirm,  that  those  I  have  mentioned 
are  all  the  first  principles  from  which  we  may 
reason  concerning  contingent  truths.  Such  enum- 
erations, even  when  made  after  much  reflection,  are 
seldom  perfect.^ 

§  10.  First  Principles  of  Necessary  Truths 

About  most  of  the  first  principles  of  necessary 
truths  there  has  been  no  dispute,  and  therefore  it  is 

^  Ibid.,  pp.  441-452.  (In  reprinting  this  and  the  following 
section  some  passages  have  been  silently  omitted.) 


158     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

the  less  necessary  to  dwell  upon  them.  It  will  be 
sufficient  to  divide  them  into  different  classes  ;  to 
mention  some,  by  way  of  specimen,  in  each  class  ; 
and  to  make  some  remarks  on  those  of  which  the 
truth  has  been  called  in  question. 

They  may,  I  think,  most  properly  be  divided 
according  to  the  sciences  to  which  they  belong. 

1.  There  are  some  first  principles  that  may  be 
called  grammatical :  such  as.  That  every  adjective 
in  a  sentence  must  belong  to  some  substantive 
expressed  or  understood ;  that  every  complete 
sentence  must  have  a  verb. 

2.  There  are  logical  axioms  :  such  as,  That  any 
contexture  of  words,  which  does  not  make  a  pro- 
position, is  neither  true  nor  false ;  That  every 
proposition  is  either  true  or  false  ;  That  no  proposi- 
tion can  be  both  true  and  false  at  the  same  time ; 
That  reasoning  in  a  circle  proves  nothing  ;  That 
whatever  may  be  truly  affirmed  of  a  genus,  may 
be  truly  affirmed  of  all  the  species,  and  all  the 
individuals  belonging  to  that  genus. 

3.  Every  one  knows  there  are  mathematical 
axioms.  Mathematicians  have,  from  the  days  of 
Euclid,  very  wisely  laid  down  the  axioms  or  first 
principles  on  which  they  reason.  And  the  effect  which 
this  appears  to  have  had  upon  the  stability  and  happy 
progress  of  this  science,  gives  no  small  encouragement 
to  attempt  to  lay  the  foundation  of  other  sciences 
in  a  similar  manner,  as  far  as  we  are  able. 


REID  159 

4.  I  think  there  are  axioms,  even  in  matters  of 
taste.  Notwithstanding  the  variety  found  among 
men  in  taste,  there  are,  I  apprehend,  some  common 
principles,  even  in  matters  of  this  kind.  I  never 
heard  of  any  man  who  thought  it  a  beauty  in  a 
human  face  to  want  a  nose,  or  an  eye,  or  to  have 
the  mouth  on  one  side. 

That  an  unjust  action  has  more  demerit  than  an 
ungenerous  one  :  That  a  generous  action  has  more 
merit  than  a  merely  just  one  :  That  no  man  ought  to 
be  blamed  for  what  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  hinder  : 
That  we  ought  not  to  do  to  others  what  we  would 
think  unjust  or  unfair  to  be  done  to  us  in  like 
circumstances.  These  are  moral  axioms,  and  many 
others  might  be  named  which  appear  to  me  to  have 
no  less  evidence  than  those  of  mathematics. 

Some  perhaps  may  think  that  our  determinations, 
either  in  matters  of  taste  or  in  morals,  ought  not 
to  be  accounted  necessary  truths  :  That  they  are 
grounded  upon  the  constitution  of  that  faculty 
which  we  call  taste,  and  of  that  which  we  call  the 
moral  sense  or  conscience;  which  faculties  might 
have  been  so  constituted  as  to  have  given  deter- 
minations different,  or  even  contrary  to  those 
they  now  give  :  That,  as  there  is  nothing  sweet 
or  bitter  in  itself,  but  according  as  it  agrees  or 
disagrees  with  the  external  sense  called  taste ;  so 
there  is  nothing  beautiful  or  ugly  in  itself,  but 
according    as  it   agrees   or   disagrees  with  the  in- 


i6o    PHILOSOPHY  OF   COMMON  SENSE 

ternal  sense,  which  we  also  call  taste  ;  and  nothing 
morally  good  or  ill  in  itself,  but  according  as  it 
agrees  or  disagrees  with  our  moral  sense. 

This  indeed  is  a  system,  with  regard  to  morals 
and  taste,  which  hath  been  supported  in  modern 
times  by  great  authorities.  And  if  this  system  be 
true,  the  consequence  must  be,  that  there  can  be 
no  principles,  either  of  taste  or  of  morals,  that  are 
necessary  truths.  For,  according  to  this  system, 
all  our  determinations,  both  with  regard  to  matters 
of  taste,  and  with  regard  to  morals,  are  reduced 
to  matters  of  fact — I  mean  to  such  as  these,  that 
by ,  our  constitution  we  have  on  such  occasions 
certain  agreeable  feelings,  and  on  other  occasions 
certain  disagreeable  feelings. 

But  I  cannot  help  being  of  a  contrary  opinion, 
being  persuaded  that  a  man  who  determined  that 
polite  behaviour  has  great  deformity,  and  that 
there  is  great  beauty  in  rudeness  and  ill-breeding, 
would  judge  wrong,  whatever  his  feelings  were. 

In  like  manner,  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  a  man 
who  determined  that  there  is  more  moral  worth  in 
cruelty,  perfidy,  and  injustice,  than  in  generosity, 
justice,  prudence,  and  temperance,  would  judge 
wrong,  whatever  his  constitution  was. 

And,  if  it  be  true  that  there  is  judgment  in  our 
determinations  of  taste  and  of  morals,  it  must  be 
granted  that  what  is  true  or  false  in  morals,  or  in 
matters  of  taste,  is  necessarily  so.     For  this  reason. 


REID  i6i 

I  have  ranked  the  first  principles  of  morals  and  of 
taste  under  the  class  of  necessary  truths. 

6.  The  last  class  of  first  principles  I  shall  mention, 
we  may  call  metaphysical. 

I  shall  particularly  consider  three  of  these, 
because  they  have  been  called  in  question  by 
Mr  Hume. 

The  first  is.  That  the  qualities  which  we  perceive 
by  our  senses  must  have  a  subject,  which  we  call 
body,  and  that  the  thoughts  we  are  conscious  of 
must  have  a  subject,  which  we  call  mind. 

The  second  metaphysical  principle  I  mention  is — 
That  whatever  begins  to  exist,  must  have  a  cause 
which  produced  it. 

The  last  metaphysical  principle  I  mention,  which 
is  opposed  by  the  same  author,  is,  That  design  and 
intelligence  in  the  cause  may  be  inferred,  with 
certainty,  from  marks  or  signs  of  it  in  the  effect.  ^ 

v.— OF  MORALS 

§  I.  Of  Benevolent  Affection  in  General 

There  are  various  principles  of  action  in  man, 
which  have  persons  for  their  immediate  object, 
and  imply,  in  their  very  nature,  our  being  well  or 
ill  affected  to  some  person,  or,  at  least,  to  some 
animated  being. 

Such  principles,  I  shall  call  by  the  general  name 

1  Ibid.,  pp.  452-457- 

II 


i62     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

of  affections,  whether  they  dispose  us  to  do  good 
or  hurt  to  others. 

The  principles  which  lead  us  immediately  to 
desire  the  good  of  others,  and  those  that  lead  us  to 
desire  their  hurt,  agree  in  this,  that  persons,  and 
not  things,  are  their  immediate  object.  Both 
imply  our  being  some  way  affected  towards  the 
person.  They  ought,  therefore,  to  have  some 
common  name  to  express  what  is  common  in  their 
nature  ;  and  I  know  no  name  more  proper  for  this 
than  affection. 

Taking  affection,  therefore,  in  this  extensive 
sense,  our  affections  are  very  naturally  divided  into 
benevolent  and  malevolent,  according  as  they 
imply  our  being  well  or  ill  affected  towards  their 
object. 

There  are  some  things  common  to  all  benevolent 
affections,  others  wherein  they  differ. 

They  differ  both  in  the  feeling  or  sensation, 
which  is  an  ingredient  in  all  of  them,  and  in  the 
objects  to  which  they  are  directed. 

They  all  agree  in  two  things — to  wit.  That  the 
feeling  which  accompanies  them  is  agreeable  ;  and. 
That  they  imply  a  desire  of  good  and  happiness  to 
their  object. 

A  thing  may  be  desired  either  on  its  own  account, 
or  as  the  means  in  order  to  something  else.  That 
only  can  properly  be  called  an  object  of  desire, 
which  is  desired  upon  its  own  account ;    and  it  is 


REID  163 

only  such  desires  that  I  call  principles  of  action. 
When  anything  is  desired  as  the  means  only,  there 
must  be  an  end  for  which  it  is  desired  ;  and  the 
desire  of  the  end  is,  in  this  case,  the  principle  of 
action.  The  means  are  desired  only  as  they  tend 
to  that  end ;  and,  if  different,  or  even  contrary 
means,  tended  to  the  same  end,  they  would  be 
equally  desired. 

On  this  account,  I  consider  those  affections  only 
as  benevolent,  where  the  good  of  the  object  is 
desired  ultimately,  and  not  as  the  means  only,  in 
order  to  something  else. 

To  say  that  we  desire  the  good  of  others,  only  in 
order  to  procure  some  pleasure  or  good  to  ourselves, 
is  to  say  that  there  is  no  benevolent  affection  in 
human  nature. 

This,  indeed,  has  been  the  opinion  of  some  philo- 
sophers, both  in  ancient  and  in  later  times.  I 
intend  not  to  examine  this  opinion  in  this  place, 
conceiving  it  proper  to  give  that  view  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  action  in  man,  which  appears  to  me  to 
be  just,  before  I  examine  the  systems  wherein  they 
have  been  mistaken  or  misrepresented. 

I  observe  only  at  present,  that  it  appears  as 
unreasonable  to  resolve  all  our  benevolent  affections 
into  self-love,  as  it  would  be  to  resolve  hunger  and 
thirst  into  self-love. 

These  appetites  are  necessary  for  the  preservation 
of   the  individual.     Benevolent   affections   are   no 


i64     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

less  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  society  among 
men,  without  which  man  would  become  an  easy 
prey  to  the  beasts  of  the  field. 

We  are  placed  in  this  world  by  the  Author  of 
our  being,  surrounded  with  many  objects  that  are 
necessary  or  useful  to  us,  and  with  many  that  may 
hurt  us.  We  are  led,  not  by  reason  and  self-love 
only,  but  by  many  instincts,  and  appetites,  and 
natural  desires  to  seek  the  former  and  to  avoid  the 
latter. 

But  of  all  the  things  of  this  world,  man  may  be 
the  most  useful  or  the  most  hurtful  to  man.  Every 
man  is  in  the  power  of  every  man  with  whom  he 
lives.  Every  man  has  power  to  do  much  good  to 
his  fellow-men,  and  to  do  more  hurt. 

We  cannot  live  without  the  society  of  men  ;  and 
it  would  be  impossible  to  live  in  society,  if  men  were 
not  disposed  to  do  much  of  that  good  to  men,  and 
but  little  of  that  hurt,  which  it  is  in  their  power 
to  do. 

But  how  shall  this  end,  so  necessary  to  the 
existence  of  human  society,  and  consequently  to 
the  existence  of  the  human  species,  be  accomplished  ? 

If  we  judge  from  analogy,  we  must  conclude  that 
in  this,  as  in  other  parts  of  our  conduct,  our  rational 
principles  are  aided  by  principles  of  an  inferior 
order,  similar  to  those  by  which  many  brute 
animals  live  in  society  with  their  species  ;  and  that, 
by  means  of  such  principles,  that  degree  of  regularity 


REID  165 

is  observed,  which  we  find  in  all  societies  of  men, 
whether  wise  or  foolish,  virtuous  or  vicious. 

The  benevolent  affections  planted  in  human 
nature  appear  therefore  no  less  necessary  for  the 
preservation  of  the  human  species,  than  the  appe- 
tites of  hunger  and  thirst. ^ 

§  2.  There  are  Rational  Principles  of 
Action  in  Man 

Mechanical  principles  of  action  produce  their 
effect  without  any  will  or  intention  on  our  part.  We 
may,  by  a  voluntary  effort,  hinder  the  effect  ;  but, 
if  it  be  not  hindered  by  will  and  effort,  it  is  produced 
without  them. 

Animal  principles  of  action  require  intention  and 
will  in  their  operation,  but  not  judgment.  They 
are,  by  ancient  moralists,  very  properly  called 
ccBCCB  cupidines,  blind  desires. 

Having  treated  of  these  two  classes,  I  proceed 
to  the  third — the  rational  principles  of  action  in 
man  ;  which  have  that  name,  because  they  can  have 
no  existence  in  beings  not  endowed  with  reason, 
and,  in  all  their  exertions,  require,  not  only  inten- 
tion and  will,  but  judgment  or  reason. 

That  talent  which  we  call  Reason,  by  which  men 
that  are  adult  and  of  a  sound  mind  are  distinguished 

^  "  Essays  on  the  Active  Powers  of  Man,"  Works,  vol.  ii. 
PP-  558-560.  (In  reprinting  this  and  the  following  sections 
on  Morals  several  passages  have  been  silently  omitted.) 


i66    PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

from  brutes,  idiots,  and  infants,  has,  in  all  ages, 
among  the  learned  and  unlearned,  been  conceived 
to  have  two  offices — to  regulate  our  belief,  and  to 
regulate  our  actions  and  conduct. 

Whatever  we  believe,  we  think  agreeable  to 
reason,  and,  on  that  account,  yield  our  assent  to 
it.  Whatever  we  disbelieve,  we  think  contrary 
to  reason,  and,  on  that  account,  dissent  from  it. 
Reason,  therefore,  is  allowed  to  be  the  principle  by 
which  our  belief  and  opinions  ought  to  be  regulated. 

But  reason  has  been  no  less  universally  con- 
ceived to  be  a  principle  by  which  our  actions  ought 
to  be  regulated. 

To  act  reasonably,  is  a  phrase  no  less  common 
in  all  languages,  than  to  judge  reasonably.  We 
immediately  approve  of  a  man's  conduct,  when  it 
appears  that  he  had  good  reason  for  what  he  did. 
And  every  action  we  disapprove,  we  think  unreason- 
able, or  contrary  to  reason. 

A  way  of  speaking  so  universal  among  men, 
common  to  the  learned  and  the  unlearned  in  all 
nations  and  in  all  languages,  must  have  a  meaning. 
To  suppose  it  to  be  words  without  meaning,  is  to 
treat,  with  undue  contempt,  the  common  sense  of 
mankind. 

Supposing  this  phrase  to  have  a  meaning,  we  may 
consider  in  what  way  reason  may  serve  to  regulate 
human  conduct,  so  that  some  actions  of  men  are  to  be 
denominated  reasonable,  and  others  unreasonable. 


REID  167 

I  take  it  for  granted,  that  there  can  be  no  exercise 
of  Reason  without  Judgment,  nor,  on  the  other  hand, 
any  judgment  of  things,  abstract  and  general, 
without  some  degree  of  reason. 

If,  therefore,  there  be  any  principles  of  action 
in  the  human  constitution,  which,  in  their  nature, 
necessarily  imply  such  judgment,  they  are  the 
principles  which  we  may  call  rational,  to  distinguish 
them  from  animal  principles,  which  imply  desire 
and  will,  but  not  judgment. 

Every  deliberate  human  action  must  be  done  either 
as  the  means,  or  as  an  end ;  as  the  means  to  some  end, 
to  which  it  is  subservient,  or  as  an  end,  for  its  own 
sake,  and  without  regard  to  anything  beyond  it. 

That  it  is  a  part  of  the  office  of  reason  to  deter- 
mine what  are  the  proper  means  to  any  end  which 
we  desire,  no  man  ever  denied.  But  some  philo- 
sophers, particularly  Mr  Hume,  think  that  it  is  no 
part  of  the  office  of  reason  to  determine  the  ends  we 
ought  to  pursue,  or  the  preference  due  to  one  end 
above  another.  This,  he  thinks,  is  not  the  office 
of  reason,  but  of  taste  or  feeling. 

If  this  be  so,  reason  cannot,  with  any  propriety, 
be  called  a  principle  of  action.  Its  office  can  only 
be  to  minister  to  the  principles  of  action,  by  dis- 
covering the  means  of  their  gratification.  Accord- 
ingly, Mr  Hume  maintains,  that  reason  is  no  prin- 
ciple of  action  ;  but  that  it  is,  and  ought  to  be,  the 
servant  of  the  passions. 


i68     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

I  shall  endeavour  to  shew  that,  among  the  various 
ends  of  human  actions,  there  are  some,  of  which, 
without  reason,  we  could  not  even  form  a  concep- 
tion ;  and  that,  as  soon  as  they  are  conceived,  a 
regard  to  them  is,  by  our  constitution,  not  only  a 
principle  of  action,  but  a  leading  and  governing 
principle,  to  which  all  our  animal  principles  are 
subordinate,  and  to  which  they  ought  to  be  subject. 

These  I  shall  call  rational  principles  ;  because 
they  can  exist  only  in  beings  endowed  with  reason, 
and  because,  to  act  from  these  principles,  is  what 
has  always  been  meant  by  acting  according  to 
reason. 

The  ends  of  human  actions  I  have  in  view,  are 
two — to  wit.  What  is  good  for  us  upon  the  whole, 
and  What  appears  to  he  our  duty.  They  are  very 
strictly  connected,  lead  to  the  same  course  of  con- 
duct, and  co-operate  with  each  other  ;  and,  on  that 
account,  have  commonly  been  comprehended  under 
one  name — that  of  reason.  But,  as  they  may  be 
disjoined,  and  are  really  distinct  principles  of 
action,  I  shall  consider  them  separately.^ 

§3.  Of  Regard  to  Our  Good  on  the  Whole 

It  will  not  be  denied  that  man,  when  he  comes 
to  years  of  understanding,  is  led,  by  his  rational 
nature,  to  form  the  conception  of  what  is  good  for 
him  upon  the  whole. 

'  Jhid.,  pp.  579-580 


REID  169 

How  early  in  life  this  general  notion  of  good  enters 
into  the  mind,  I  cannot  pretend  to  determine.  It 
is  one  of  the  most  general  and  abstract  notions 
we  form. 

Whatever  makes  a  man  more  happy  or  more 
perfect,  is  good,  and  is  an  object  of  desire  as  soon 
as  we  are  capable  of  forming  the  conception  of  it. 
The  contrary  is  ill,  and  is  an  object  of  aversion. 

In  the  first  part  of  life,  we  have  many  enjoyments 
of  various  kinds  ;  but  very  similar  to  those  of 
brute-animals. 

They  consist  in  the  exercise  of  our  senses  and 
powers  of  motion,  the  gratification  of  our  appetites, 
and  the  exertions  of  our  kind  affections.  These  are 
chequered  with  many  evils  of  pain,  and  fear,  and 
disappointment,  and  sympathy  with  the  sufferings 
of  others. 

But  the  goods  and  evils  of  this  period  of  life  are 
of  short  duration,  and  soon  forgot.  The  mind, 
being  regardless  of  the  past,  and  unconcerned 
about  the  future,  we  have  then  no  other  measure  of 
good  but  the  present  desire ;  no  other  measure  of 
evil  but  the  present  aversion. 

Every  animal  desire  has  some  particular  and 
present  object,  and  looks  not  beyond  that  object 
to  its  consequences,  or  to  the  connections  it  may 
have  with  other  things. 

The  present  object,  which  is  most  attractive,  or 
.excites  the  strongest  desire,  determines  the  choice. 


170    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

whatever  be  its  consequences.  The  present  evil 
that  presses  most,  is  avoided,  though  it  should  be 
the  road  to  a  greater  good  to  come,  or  the  only  way 
to  escape  a  greater  evil.  This  is  the  way  in  which 
brutes  act,  and  the  way  in  which  men  must  act,  till 
they  come  to  the  use  of  reason. 

As  we  grow  up  to  understanding,  we  extend  our 
view  both  forward  and  backward.  We  reflect 
upon  what  is  past,  and,  by  the  lamp  of  experience, 
discern  what  will  probably  happen  in  time  to  come. 
We  find  that  many  things  which  we  eagerly  desired, 
were  too  dearly  purchased,  and  that  things  grievous 
for  the  present,  like  nauseous  medicines,  may  be 
salutary  in  the  issue. 

We  learn  to  observe  the  connexions  of  things, 
and  the  consequences  of  our  actions  ;  and,  taking 
an  extended  view  of  our  existence,  past,  present, 
and  future,  we  correct  our  first  notions  of  good  and 
ill,  and  form  the  conception  of  what  is  good  or  ill 
upon  the  whole ;  which  must  be  estimated,  not 
from  the  present  feeling,  or  from  the  present  animal 
desire  or  aversion,  but  from  a  due  consideration 
of  its  consequences,  certain  or  probable,  during  the 
whole  of  our  existence. 

That  which,  taken  with  all  its  discoverable 
connexions  and  consequences,  brings  more  good 
than  ill,  I  call  good  upon  the  whole. 

That  brute-animals  have  any  conception  of  this 
good,  I  see  no  reason  to  believe.     And  it  is  evident 


REID  171 

that  man  cannot  have  the  conception  of  it,  till 
reason  is  so  far  advanced  that  he  can  seriously 
reflect  upon  the  past,  and  take  a  prospect  of  the 
future  part  of  his  existence. 

It  appears,  therefore,  that  the  very  conception 
of  what  is  good  or  ill  for  us  upon  the  whole,  is  the 
offspring  of  reason,  and  can  be  only  in  beings 
endowed  with  reason.  And  if  this  conception  give 
rise  to  any  principle  of  action  in  man,  which  he 
had  not  before,  that  principle  may  very  properly 
be  called  a  rational  principle  of  action. 

I  observe,  in  the  next  place — That  as  soon  as  we 
have  the  conception  of  what  is  good  or  ill  for  us  upon 
the  whole,  we  are  led,  by  our  constitution,  to  seek 
the  good  and  avoid  the  ill ;  and  this  becomes  not 
only  a  principle  of  action,  but  a  leading  or  governing 
principle,  to  which  all  our  animal  principles  ought 
to  be  subordinate. 

To  prefer  a  greater  good,  though  distant,  to  a 
less  that  is  present ;  to  choose  a  present  evil,  in 
order  to  avoid  a  greater  evil,  or  to  obtain  a 
greater  good,  is,  in  the  judgment  of  all  men, 
wise  and  reasonable  conduct ;  and,  when  a  man 
acts  the  contrary  part,  all  men  will  acknow- 
ledge that  he  acts  foolishly  and  unreasonably. 
Nor  will  it  be  denied,  that,  in  innumerable  cases  in 
common  life,  our  animal  principles  draw  us  one 
way,  while  a  regard  to  what  is  good  on  the  whole, 
draws  us  the  contrary  way.     Thus  the  flesh  lusteth 


172    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

against  the  spirit,  and  the  spirit  against  the  flesh, 
and  these  two  are  contrary.  That  in  every  conflict 
of  this  kind  the  rational  principle  ought  to  prevail, 
and  the  animal  to  be  subordinate,  is  too  evident 
to  need,  or  to  admit  of  proof. 

Thus,  I  think,  it  appears,  that,  to  pursue  what 
is  good  upon  the  whole,  and  to  avoid  what  is  ill 
upon  the  whole,  is  a  rational  principle  of  action 
grounded  upon  our  constitution  as  reasonable 
creatures. 

It  appears  that  it  is  not  without  just  cause,  that 
this  principle  of  action  has  in  all  ages  been  called 
reason,  in  opposition  to  our  animal  principles,  which 
in  common  language  are  called  by  the  general  name 
of  the  passions. 

The  first  not  only  operates  in  a  calm  and  cool 
manner,  like  reason,  but  implies  real  judgment 
in  all  its  operations.  The  second — to  wit,  the 
passions — are  blind  desires  of  some  particular 
object,  without  any  judgment  or  consideration, 
whether  it  be  good  for  us  upon  the  whole, 
or  iU. 

It  appears  also,  that  the  fundamental  maxim 
of  prudence,  and  of  all  good  morals — That  the 
passions  ought,  in  all  cases,  to  be  under  the  dominion 
of  reason — is  not  only  self-evident,  when  rightly 
understood,  but  is  expressed  according  to  the  com- 
mon use  and  propriety  of  language.^ 

*  Ibid.,  pp.  580-581, 


REID  173 

§  4.  Of  the  Notion  of  Duty,  Rectitude, 
Moral  Obligation 

A  being  endowed  with  the  animal  principles  of 
action  only  may  be  capable  of  being  trained  to 
certain  purposes  by  discipline,  as  we  see  many 
brute-animals  are,  but  would  be  altogether  in- 
capable of  being  governed  by  law. 

The  subject  of  law  must  have  the  conception 
of  a  general  rule  of  conduct,  which,  without  some 
degree  of  reason,  he  cannot  have.  He  must  like- 
wise have  a  sufficient  inducement  to  obey  the  law, 
even  when  his  strongest  animal  desires  draw  him 
the  contrary  way. 

This  inducement  may  be  a  sense  of  inter  est,  or  a 
sense  of  duty,  or  both  concurring. 

These  are  the  only  principles  I  am  able  to  con- 
ceive, which  can  reasonably  induce  a  man  to  regu- 
late all  his  actions  according  to  a  certain  general 
rule  or  law.  They  may  therefore  be  justly  called 
the  rational  principles  of  action,  since  they  can  have 
no  place  but  in  a  being  endowed  with  reason,  and 
since  it  is  by  them  only  that  man  is  capable  either 
of  political  or  of  moral  government. 

Without  them  human  life  would  be  like  a  ship 
at  sea  without  hands,  left  to  be  carried  by  winds 
and  tides  as  they  happen.  It  belongs  to  the 
rational  part  of  our  nature  to  intend  a  certain  port, 
as  the  end  of  the  voyage  of  life  ;   to  take  the  advan- 


174     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

tage  of  winds  and  tides  when  they  are  favourable, 
and  to  bear  up  against  them  when  they  are  un- 
favourable. 

A  sense  of  interest  may  induce  us  to  do  this,  when 
a  suitable  reward  is  set  before  us.  But  there  is  a 
nobler  principle  in  the  constitution  of  man,  which, 
in  many  cases,  gives  a  clearer  and  more  certain 
rule  of  conduct,  than  a  regard  merely  to  interest 
would  give,  and  a  principle,  without  which  man 
would  not  be  a  moral  agent. 

A  man  is  prudent  when  he  consults  his  real 
interest ;  but  he  cannot  be  virtuous,  if  he  has  no 
regard  to  duty. 

I  proceed  now  to  consider  this  regard  to  Duty 
as  a  rational  principle  of  action  in  man,  and  as  that 
principle  alone  by  which  he  is  capable  either  of 
virtue  or  vice. 

I  shall  first  offer  some  observations  with  regard 
to  the  general  notion  of  duty,  and  its  contrary,  or 
of  right  and  wrong  in  human  conduct,  and  then 
consider,  how  we  come  to  judge  and  determine 
certain  things  in  human  conduct  to  be  right,  and 
others  to  be  wrong. 

With  regard  to  the  notion  or  conception  of  Duty, 
I  take  it  to  be  too  simple  to  admit  of  a  logical 
definition. 

We  can  define  it  only  by  synonymous  words  or 
phrases,  or  by  its  properties  and  necessary  con- 
comitants, as  when  we  say  that  it  is  what  we  ought 


REID  175 

to  do — what  is  fair  and  honest — what  is  approvable 
— what  every  man  professes  to  be  the  rule  of  his 
conduct — what  all  men  praise^and,  what  is  in 
itself  laudable,  though  no  man  should  praise  it. 

I  observe,  in  the  next  place.  That  the  notion  of 
duty  cannot  be  resolved  into  that  of  interest,  or 
what  is  most  for  our  happiness. 

Every  man  may  be  satisfied  of  this  who  attends 
to  his  own  conceptions,  and  the  language  of  all 
mankind  shews  it.  When  I  say.  This  is  my  interest, 
I  mean  one  thing  ;  when  I  say,  It  is  my  duty,  I 
mean  another  thing.  And,  though  the  same  course 
of  action,  when  rightly  understood,  may  be  both 
my  duty  and  my  interest,  the  conceptions  are  very 
different.  Both  are  reasonable  motives  to  action, 
but  quite  distinct  in  their  nature. 

I  presume  it  will  be  granted,  that,  in  every  man 
of  real  worth,  there  is  a  principle  of  honour,  a  regard 
to  what  is  honourable  or  dishonourable,  very  dis- 
tinct from  a  regard  to  his  interest.  It  is  folly  in  a 
man  to  disregard  his  interest,  but  to  do  what  is 
dishonourable,  is  baseness.  The  first  may  move 
our  pity,  or,  in  some  cases,  our  contempt ;  but  the 
last  provokes  our  indignation. 

As  these  two  principles  are  different  in  their 
nature,  and  not  resolvable  into  one,  so  the  principle 
of  honour  is  evidently  superior  in  dignity  to  that 
of  interest. 

No  man  would  allow  him  to  be  a  man  of  honour 


176     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

who  should  plead  his  interest  to  justify  what  he 
acknowledged  to  be  dishonourable  ;  but  to  sacrifice 
interest  to  honour  never  costs  a  blush. 

It  likewise  will  be  allowed  by  every  man  of  honour, 
that  this  principle  is  not  to  be  resolved  into  a  regard 
to  our  reputation  among  men,  otherwise  the  man  of 
honour  would  not  deserve  to  be  trusted  in  the  dark. 
He  would  have  no  aversion  to  lie,  or  cheat,  or 
play  the  coward,  when  he  had  no  dread  of  being 
discovered. 

I  take  it  for  granted,  therefore,  that  every  man 
of  real  honour  feels  an  abhorrence  of  certain  actions, 
because  they  are  in  themselves  base,  and  feels  an 
obligation  to  certain  other  actions,  because  they  are 
in  themselves  what  honour  requires,  and  this  in- 
dependently of  any  consideration  of  interest  or 
reputation. 

This  is  an  immediate  moral  obligation.  This 
principle  of  honour,  which  is  acknowledged  by  all 
men  who  pretend  to  character,  is  only  another  name 
for  what  we  call  a  regard  to  duty,  to  rectitude,  to 
propriety  of  conduct.  It  is  a  moral  obligation 
which  obliges  a  man  to  do  certain  things  because 
they  are  right,  and  not  to  do  other  things  because 
they  are  wrong. 

Ask  the  man  of  honour  why  he  thinks  himself 
obliged  to  pay  a  debt  of  honour  ?  The  very 
question  shocks  him.  To  suppose  that  he  needs 
any  other  inducement  to  do  it  but  the  principle 


REID  lyy 

of  honour,  is  to  suppose  that  he  has  no  honour, 
no  worth,  and  deserves  no  esteem. 

There  is,  therefore,  a  principle  in  man,  which, 
when  he  acts  according  to  it,  gives  him  a  conscious- 
ness of  worth,  and,  when  he  acts  contrary  to  it,  a 
sense  of  demerit. 

From  the  varieties  of  education,  of  fashion,  of 
prejudices,  and  of  habits,  men  may  differ  much  in 
opinion  with  regard  to  the  extent  of  this  principle, 
and  of  what  it  commands  and  forbids  ;  but  the 
notion  of  it,  as  far  as  it  is  carried,  is  the  same  in  all. 
It  is  that  which  gives  a  man  real  worth,  and  is  the 
object  of  moral  approbation. 

Men  of  rank  call  it  honour,  and  too  often  confine 
it  to  certain  virtues  that  are  thought  most  essential 
to  their  rank.  The  vulgar  call  it  honesty,  probity, 
virtue,  conscience.  Philosophers  have  given  it  the 
names  of  the  moral  sense,  the  moral  faculty,  rectitude. 

If  we  examine  the  abstract  notion  of  Duty,  or 
Moral  Obligation,  it  appears  to  be  neither  any  real 
quality  of  the  action  considered  by  itself,  nor  of 
the  agent  considered  without  respect  to  the  action, 
but  a  certain  relation  between  the  one  and  the  other. 

When  we  say  a  man  ought  to  do  such  a  thing,  the 
ought,  which  expresses  the  moral  obligation,  has  a 
respect,  on  the  one  hand,  to  the  person  who  ought ; 
and,  on  the  other,  to  the  action  which  he  ought  to 
do.  Those  two  correlates  are  essential  to  every 
moral  obligation  ;    take  away  either,  and  it  has  no 

12 


178     PHILOSOPHY  OF   COMMON  SENSE 

existence.  So  that,  if  we  seek  the  place  of  moral 
obligation  among  the  categories,  it  belongs  to  the 
category  of  relation. 

There  are  many  relations  of  things,  of  which  we 
have  the  most  distinct  conception,  without  being 
able  to  define  them  logically.  Equality  and  pro- 
portion are  relations  between  quantities,  which 
every  man  understands,  but  no  man  can  define. 

Moral  obligation  is  a  relation  of  its  own  kind, 
which  every  man  understands,  but  is,  perhaps, 
too  simple  to  admit  of  logical  definition.  Like 
all  other  relations,  it  may  be  changed  or  annihilated 
by  a  change  in  any  of  the  two  related  things — I 
mean  the  agent  or  the  action. 

Perhaps  it  may  not  be  improper  to  point  out 
briefly  the  circumstances,  both  in  the  action  and 
in  the  agent,  which  are  necessary  to  constitute 
moral  obligation.  The  universal  agreement  of 
men  in  these,  shews  that  they  have  one  and  the 
same  notion  of  it. 

With  regard  to  the  action,  it  must  be  a  voluntary 
action,  or  prestation  of  the  person  obliged,  and 
not  of  another.  There  can  be  no  moral  obligation 
upon  a  man  to  be  six  feet  high.  Nor  can  I  be  under 
a  moral  obligation  that  another  person  should  do 
such  a  thing.  His  actions  must  be  imputed  to 
himself,  and  mine  only  to  me,  either  for  praise 
or  blame. 

I  need  hardly  mention,  that  a  person  can  be  under 


REID  179 

a  moral  obligation,  only  to  things  within  the  sphere 
of  his  natural  power. 

As  to  the  party  obliged,  it  is  evident  there  can  be 
no  moral  obligation  upon  an  inanimate  thing.  To 
speak  of  moral  obligation  upon  a  stone  or  a  tree  is 
ridiculous,  because  it  contradicts  every  man's 
notion  of  moral  obligation. 

The  person  obliged  must  have  understanding  and 
will,  and  some  degree  of  active  power.  He  must 
not  only  have  the  natural  faculty  of  understanding, 
but  the  means  of  knowing  his  obligation.  An 
invincible  ignorance  of  this  destroys  all  moral 
obligation. 

The  opinion  of  the  agent  in  doing  the  action  gives 
it  its  moral  denomination.  If  he  does  a  materially 
good  action,  without  any  belief  of  its  being  good, 
but  from  some  other  principle,  it  is  no  good  action 
in  him.  And  if  he  does  it  with  the  belief  of  its 
being  ill,  it  is  ill  in  him. 

Thus,  if  a  man  should  give  to  his  neighbour  a 
potion  which  he  really  believes  will  poison  him, 
but  which,  in  the  event,  proves  salutary,  and  does 
much  good  ;  in  moral  estimation,  he  is  a  poisoner, 
and  not  a  benefactor. 

These  qualifications  of  the  action  and  of  the  agent, 
in  moral  obligation,  are  self-evident ;  and  the  agree- 
ment of  all  men  in  them  shews  that  all  men  have 
the  same  notion,  and  a  distinct  notion  of  moral 
obligation. 


i8o     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON   SENSE 

We  are  next  to  consider,  how  we  learn  to  judge 
and  determine,  that  this  is  right,  and  that  is 
wrong. 

The  abstract  notion  of  moral  good  and  ill  would 
be  of  no  use  to  direct  our  life,  if  we  had  not  the 
power  of  applying  it  to  particular  actions,  and 
determining  what  is  morally  good,  and  what  is 
morally  ill. 

Some  philosophers,  with  whom  I  agree,  ascribe 
this  to  an  original  power  or  faculty  in  man,  which 
they  call  the  Moral  Sense,  the  Moral  Faculty, 
Conscience. 

In  its  dignity  it  is,  without  doubt,  far  superior 
to  every  other  power  of  the  mind  ;  but  there  is 
this  analogy  between  it  and  the  external  senses, 
That,  as  by  them  we  have  not  only  the  original 
conceptions  of  the  various  qualities  of  bodies,  but 
the  original  judgment  that  this  body  has  such  a 
quality,  that  such  another ;  so  by  our  moral 
faculty,  we  have  both  the  original  conceptions  of 
right  and  wrong  in  conduct,  of  merit  and  demerit, 
and  the  original  judgments  that  this  conduct  is 
right,  that  is  wrong  ;  that  this  character  has  worth, 
that  demerit. 

The  testimony  of  our  moral  faculty,  like  that  of 
the  external  senses,  is  the  testimony  of  nature,  and 
we  have  the  same  reason  to  rely  upon  it. 

The  truths  immediately  testified  by  the  external 
senses  are  the  first  principles  from  which  we  reason, 


REID  i8i 

with  regard  to  the  material  world,  and  from  which 
all  our  knowledge  of  it  is  deduced. 

The  truths  immediately  testified  by  our  moral 
faculty,  are  the  first  principles  of  all  moral  reasoning, 
from  which  all  our  knowledge  of  our  duty  must  be 
deduced. 

By  moral  reasoning,  I  understand  all  reasoning 
that  is  brought  to  prove  that  such  conduct  is  right, 
and  deserving  of  moral  approbation  ;  or  that  it  is 
wrong ;  or  that  it  is  indifferent,  and,  in  itself, 
neither  morally  good  nor  ill. 

I  think,  all  we  can  properly  call  moral  judgments, 
are  reducible  to  one  or  other  of  these,  as  all  human 
actions,  considered  in  a  moral  view,  are  either  good, 
or  bad,  or  indifferent. 

I  know  the  term  moral  reasoning  is  often  used  by 
good  writers  in  a  more  extensive  sense  ;  but,  as  the 
reasoning  I  now  speak  of  is  of  a  peculiar  kind, 
distinct  from  all  others,  and,  therefore,  ought  to 
have  a  distinct  name,  I  take  the  liberty  to  limit  the 
name  of  moral  reasoning  to  this  kind. 

Let  it  be  understood,  therefore,  that  in  the  reason- 
ing I  call  moral,  the  conclusion  always  is.  That  some- 
thing in  the  conduct  of  moral  agents  is  good  or  bad, 
in  a  greater  or  a  less  degree,  or  indifferent. 

All  reasoning  must  be  grounded  on  first  principles. 
This  holds  in  moral  reasoning,  as  in  all  other  kinds. 
There  must,  therefore,  be  in  morals,  as  in  all  other 
sciences,  first  or  self-evident  principles,  on  which 


i82     PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

all  moral  reasoning  is  grounded,  and  on  which 
it  ultimately  rests.  From  such  self-evident  prin- 
ciples, conclusions  may  be  drawn  synthetically  with 
regard  to  the  moral  conduct  of  life  ;  and  particular 
duties  or  virtues  may  be  traced  back  to  such  prin- 
ciples, analytically.  But,  without  such  principles, 
we  can  no  more  establish  any  conclusion  in  morals, 
than  we  can  build  a  castle  in  the  air,  without  any 
foundation.^ 

§  5.  Observations  concerning  Conscience 

I  shall  now  conclude  this  essay  with  some  observa- 
tions concerning  this  power  of  the  mind  which  we 
call  Conscience,  by  which  its  nature  may  be  better 
understood. 

The  first  is,  That,  like  all  our  other  powers,  it 
comes  to  maturity  by  insensible  degrees,  and  may 
be  much  aided  in  its  strength  and  vigour  by  proper 
culture. 

A  second  observation  is,  That  Conscience  is 
peculiar  to  man.  We  see  not  a  vestige  of  it  in 
brute  animals.  It  is  one  of  those  prerogatives  by 
which  we  are  raised  above  them. 

The  next  observation  is — That  Conscience  is 
evidently  intended  by  nature  to  be  the  immediate 
guide  and  director  of  our  conduct,  after  we  arrive  at 
the  years  of  understanding. 

It  judges  of  every  action  before  it  is  done.  For 
1  Ibid.,  pp.  586-590. 


REID  183 

we  can  rarely  act  so  precipitately  but  we  have  the 
consciousness  that  what  we  are  about  to  do  is 
right,  or  wrong,  or  indifferent.  Like  the  bodily 
eye,  it  naturally  looks  forward,  though  its  attention 
may  be  turned  back  to  the  past. 

To  conceive,  as  some  seem  to  have  done,  that  its 
office  is  only  to  reflect  on  past  actions,  and  to 
approve  or  disapprove,  is,  as  if  a  man  should  con- 
ceive that  the  office  of  his  eyes  is  only  to  look  back 
upon  the  road  he  has  travelled,  and  to  see  whether 
it  be  clean  or  dirty  ;  a  mistake  which  no  man  can 
make  who  has  made  the  proper  use  of  his  eyes. 

Conscience  prescribes  measures  to  every  appetite, 
affection,  and  passion,  and  says  to  every  other 
principle  of  action — So  far  thou  mayest  go,  but  no 
farther. 

We  may  indeed  transgress  its  dictates,  but  we 
cannot  transgress  them  with  innocence,  nor  even 
with  impunity. 

We  condemn  ourselves,  or,  in  the  language  of 
scripture,  our  heart  condemns  us,  whenever  we  go 
beyond  the  rules  of  right  and  wrong  which  con- 
science prescribes. 

Other  principles  of  action  may  liave  more 
strength,  but  this  only  has  authority.  Its  sentence 
makes  us  guilty  to  ourselves,  and  guilty  in  the  eyes 
of  our  Maker,  whatever  other  principle  may  be  set 
in  opposition  to  it. 

It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  this  principle  has. 


i84     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

from  its  nature,  an  authority  to  direct  and  determine 
with  regard  to  our  conduct ;  to  judge,  to  acquit,  or  to 
condemn,  and  even  to  publish  ;  an  authority  which 
belongs  to  no  other  principle  of  the  human  mind. 

It  is  the  candle  of  the  Lord  set  up  within  us,  to 
guide  our  steps.  Other  principles  may  urge  and 
impel,  but  this  only  authorizes.  Other  principles 
ought  to  be  controlled  by  this  ;  this  may  be,  but 
never  ought  to  be  controlled  by  any  other,  and 
never  can  be  with  innocence. 

The  authority  of  conscience  over  the  other  active 
principles  of  the  mind,  I  do  not  consider  as  a  point 
that  requires  proof  by  argument,  but  as  self-evident. 
For  it  implies  no  more  than  this — That  in  all  cases 
a  man  ought  to  do  his  duty.  He  only  who  does  in  all 
cases  what  he  ought  to  do,  is  the  perfect  man. 

The  last  observation  is — That  the  Moral  Faculty 
or  Conscience  is  both  an  Active  and  an  Intellectual 
power  of  the  mind. 

It  is  an  active  power,  as  every  truly  virtuous 
action  must  be  more  or  less  influenced  by  it.  Other 
principles  may  concur  with  it,  and  lead  the  same 
way  ;  but  no  action  can  be  called  morally  good,  in 
which  a  regard  to  what  is  right  has  not  some  in- 
fluence. Thus,  a  man  who  has  no  regard  to  justice, 
may  pay  his  just  debt,  from  no  other  motive  but 
that  he  may  not  be  thrown  into  prison.  In  this 
action  there  is  no  virtue  at  all. 

The  moral  principle,  in  particular  cases,  may  be 


REID  185 

opposed  by  any  of  our  animal  principles.  Passion 
or  appetite  may  urge  to  what  we  know  to  be  wrong. 
In  every  instance  of  this  kind,  the  moral  principle 
ought  to  prevail,  and  the  more  difficult  its  conquest 
is,  it  is  the  more  glorious. 

In  some  cases,  a  regard  to  what  is  right  may  be 
the  sole  motive,  without  the  concurrence  or  opposi- 
tion of  any  other  principle  of  action  ;  as  when  a 
judge  or  an  arbiter  determines  a  plea  between  two 
different  persons,  solely  from  a  regard  to  justice. 

Thus  we  see  that  conscience,  as  an  active  prin- 
ciple, sometime  concurs  with  other  active  principles, 
sometimes  opposes  them,  and  sometimes  is  the  sole 
principle  of  action. 

I  conclude  with  observing,  That  conscience,  or 
the  moral  faculty,  is  likewise  an  intellectual  power. 

By  it  solely  we  have  the  original  conceptions  or 
ideas  of  right  and  wrong  in  human  conduct.  And 
of  right  and  wrong  there  are  not  only  many  different 
degrees,  by  many  different  species.  Justice  and 
injustice,  gratitude  and  ingratitude,  benevolence 
and  malice,  prudence  and  folly,  magnanimity  and 
meanness,  decency  and  indecency,  are  various 
moral  forms,  all  comprehended  under  the  general 
notion  of  right  and  wrong  in  conduct,  all  of  them 
objects  of  moral  approbation  or  disapprobation, 
in  a  greater  or  a  less  degree. 

The  conception  of  these,  as  moral  qualities,  we 
have   by   our   moral   faculty ;     and   by   the   same 


i86    PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

faculty,  when  we  compare  them  together,  we  per- 
ceive various  moral  relations  among  them.  Thus, 
we  perceive  that  justice  is  entitled  to  a  small 
degree  of  praise,  but  injustice  to  a  high  degree  of 
blame  ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  gratitude  and 
its  contrary.  When  justice  and  gratitude  interfere, 
gratitude  must  give  place  to  justice,  and  unmerited 
beneficence  must  give  place  to  both. 

Many  such  relations  between  the  various  moral 
qualities  compared  together,  are  immediately  dis- 
cerned by  our  moral  faculty.  A  man  needs  only 
to  consult  his  own  heart  to  be  convinced  of  them. 

All  our  reasonings  in  morals,  in  natural  jurispru- 
dence, in  the  law  of  nations,  as  well  as  our  reasonings 
about  the  duties  of  natural  religion,  and  about  the 
moral  government  of  the  Deity,  must  be  grounded 
upon  the  dictates  of  our  moral  faculty,  as  first 
principles. 

As  this  faculty ,  therefore,  furnishes  the  human  mind 
with  many  of  its  original  conceptions  or  ideas,  as  well 
as  with  the  first  principles  of  many  important  branches 
of  human  knowledge,  it  may  justly  be  accounted  an 
intellectual  as  well  as  an  active  power  of  the  mind.^ 

§  6.  That  Moral  Approbation  implies  a 
Real  Judgment 

The  approbation  of  good  actions,  and  disappro- 
bation of  bad,  are  so  familiar  to  every  man  come  to 
1  Ibid.,  pp.  594-599. 


REID  187 

years  of  understanding,  that  it  seems  strange  there 
should  be  any  dispute  about  their  nature. 

Whether  we  reflect  upon  our  own  conduct,  or 
attend  to  the  conduct  of  others  with  whom  we  live, 
or  of  whom  we  hear  or  read,  we  cannot  help  approv- 
ing of  some  things,  disapproving  of  others,  and  re- 
garding many  with  perfect  indifference. 

These  operations  of  our  minds  we  are  conscious 
of  every  day  and  almost  every  hour  we  live.  Men 
of  ripe  understanding  are  capable  of  reflecting  upon 
them,  and  of  attending  to  what  passes  in  their  own 
thoughts  on  such  occasions  ;  yet,  for  half  a  century, 
it  has  been  a  serious  dispute  among  philosophers 
what  this  approbation  and  disapprobation  is, 
Whether  there  be  a  real  judgment  included  in  it, 
which,  like  all  other  judgments,  must  be  true  or 
false  ;  or.  Whether  it  include  no  more  but  some 
agreeable  or  uneasy  feeling,  in  the  person  who 
approves  or  disapproves. 

Mr  Hume  observes  very  justly,  that  this  is  a 
controversy  started  of  late.  Before  the  modern 
system  of  Ideas  and  Impressions  was  introduced, 
nothing  would  have  appeared  more  absurd  than  to 
say,  that  when  I  condemn  a  man  for  what  he  has 
done,  I  pass  no  judgment  at  all  about  the  man,  but 
only  express  some  uneasy  feeling  in  myself. 

Nor  did  the  new  system  produce  this  discovery 
at  once,  but  gradually,  by  several  steps,  according 
as  its  consequences  were  more  accurately  traced. 


i88     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

and  its  spirit  more  thoroughly  imbibed  by  suc- 
cessive philosophers. 

Des  Cartes  and  Mr  Locke  went  no  farther  than 
to  maintain  that  the  Secondary  Qualities  of  body — 
Heat  and  Cold,  Sound,  Colour,  Taste,  and  Smell — 
which  we  perceive  and  judge  to  be  in  the  external 
object,  are  mere  feelings  or  sensations  in  our  minds, 
there  being  nothing  in  bodies  themselves  to  which 
these  names  can  be  applied  ;  and  that  the  office 
of  the  external  senses  is  not  to  judge  of  external 
things,  but  only  to  give  us  ideas  of  sensations,  from 
which  we  are  by  reasoning  to  deduce  the  existence 
of  a  material  world  without  us,  as  well  as  we  can. 

Arthur  Collier  and  Bishop  Berkeley  discovered, 
from  the  same  principles,  that  the  Primary,  as  well 
as  the  Secondary,  Qualities  of  bodies,  such  as 
Extension,  Figure,  Solidity,  Motion,  are  only 
sensations  in  our  minds  ;  and,  therefore,  that  there 
is  no  material  world  without  us  at  all. 

The  same  philosophy,  when  it  cam'e  to  be  applied 
to  matters  of  taste,  discovered  that  beauty  and 
deformity  are  not  anything  in  the  objects,  to  which 
men,  from  the  beginning  of  the  world,  ascribed  them, 
but  certain  feelings  in  the  mind  of  the  spectator. 

The  next  step  was  an  easy  consequence  from  all 
the  preceding,  that  Moral  Approbation  and  Dis- 
approbation are  not  Judgments,  which  must  be 
true  or  false,  but  barely  agreeable  and  uneasy 
Feelings  or  Sensations. 


REID  189 

Mr  Hume  made  the  last  step  in  this  progress, 
and  crowned  the  system  by  what  he  calls  his 
hypothesis — to  wit,  That  Belief  is  more  properly  an 
act  of  the  Sensitive  than  of  the  Cogitative  part  of 
our  nature. 

Beyond  this  I  think  no  man  can  go  in  this  track  ; 
sensation  or  feeling  is  all,  and  what  is  left  to  the 
cogitative  part  of  our  nature,  I  am  not  able  to 
comprehend. 

I  have  had  occasion  to  consider  each  of  these 
paradoxes,  excepting  that  which  relates  to  morals, 
in  "  Essays  on  the  Intellectual  Powers  of  Man  "  ; 
and,  though  they  be  strictly  connected  with  each 
other,  and  with  the  system  which  has  produced  them, 
I  have  attempted  to  shew  that  they  are  inconsistent 
with  just  notions  of  our  intellectual  powers,  no  less 
than  they  are  with  the  common  sense  and  common 
language  of  mankind.  And  this,  I  think,  will  like- 
wise appear  with  regard  to  the  conclusion  relating 
to  morals — to  wit.  That  moral  approbation  is  only 
an  agreeable  feeling,  and  not  a  real  judgment. 

To  prevent  ambiguity  as  much  as  possible,  let  us 
attend  to  the  meaning  of  Feeling  and  of  Judgment. 
These  operations  of  the  mind,  perhaps,  cannot  be 
logically  defined  ;  but  they  are  well  understood, 
and  easily  distinguished,  by  their  properties  and 
adjuncts. 

A  feeling  must  be  agreeable,  or  uneasy,  or 
indifferent.     It    may    be    weak    or    strong.     It    is 


igo     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

expressed  in  language  either  by  a  single  word,  or 
by  such  a  contexture  of  words  as  may  be  the 
subject  or  predicate  of  a  proposition,  but  such  as 
cannot  by  themselves  make  a  proposition.  For  it 
implies  neither  affirmation  nor  negation  ;  and  there- 
fore cannot  have  the  qualities  of  true  or  false,  which  dis- 
tinguish propositions  from  all  other  forms  of  speech, 
and  judgments  from  all  other  acts  of  the  mind. 

That  I  have  such  a  feeling,  is  indeed  an  affirmative 
proposition,  and  expresses  testimony  grounded 
upon  an  intuitive  judgment.  But  the  feeling  is 
only  one  term  of  this  proposition  ;  and  it  can  only 
make  a  proposition  when  joined  with  another 
term,  by  a  verb  affirming  or  denying. 

As  feeling  distinguishes  the  animal  nature  from 
the  inanimate  ;  so  judging  seems  to  distinguish  the 
rational  nature  from  the  merely  animal. 

Though  judgment  in  general  is  expressed  by  one 
word  in  language,  as  the  most  complex  operations 
of  the  mind  may  be ;  yet  a  particular  judgment 
can  only  be  expressed  by  a  sentence,  and  by  that 
kind  of  sentence  which  logicians  call  a  proposition, 
in  which  there  must  necessarily  be  a  verb  in  the 
indicative  mood,  either  expressed  or  understood. 

Every  judgment  must  necessarily  be  true  or 
false,  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  proposition 
which  expresses  it.  It  is  a  determination  of  the 
understanding,  with  regard  to  what  is  true,  or  false, 
or  dubious.  ^ 


REID  191 

In  judgment,  we  can  distinguish  the  object  about 
which  we  judge,  from  the  act  of  the  mind  in  judging 
of  that  object.  In  mere  feeling  there  is  no  such 
distinction.  The  object  of  judgment  must  be 
expressed  by  a  proposition  ;  and  behef ,  disbehef ,  or 
doubt,  always  accompanies  the  judgment  we  form. 
If  we  judge  the  proposition  to  be  true,  we  must 
believe  it ;  if  we  judge  it  to  be  false,  we  must  dis- 
believe it ;  and  if  we  be  uncertain  whether  it  be 
true  or  false,  we  must  doubt. 

These  two  operations  of  mind,  when  we  consider 
them  separately,  are  very  different,  and  easily 
distinguished.  When  we  feel  without  judging,  or 
judge  without  feeling,  it  is  impossible,  without  very 
gross  inattention,  to  mistake  the  one  for  the  other. 

But  in  many  operations  of  the  mind,  both  are 
inseparably  conjoined  under  one  name  ;  and  when 
we  are  not  aware  that  the  operation  is  complex, 
we  may  take  one  ingredient  to  be  the  whole,  and 
overlook  the  other. 

But  in  most  of  the  operations  of  mind  in  which 
judgment  or  belief  is  combined  with  feeling,  the 
feeling  is  the  consequence  of  the  judgment,  and  is 
regulated  by  it. 

Let  me  now  consider  how  I  am  affected  when  I 
see  a  man  exerting  himself  nobly  in  a  good  cause. 
I  am  conscious  that  the  effect  of  his  conduct  on  my 
mind  is  complex,  though  it  may  be  called  by  one 
name.     I  look  up  to  his  virtue,  I  approve,  I  admire 


192     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

it.  In  doing  so,  I  have  pleasure  indeed,  or  an 
agreeable  feeling ;  this  is  granted.  But  I  find 
myself  interested  in  his  success  and  in  his  fame. 
This  is  affection  ;  it  is  love  and  esteem,  which  is 
more  than  mere  feeling.  The  man  is  the  object 
of  this  esteem  ;  but  in  mere  feeling  there  is  no 
object. 

I  am  likewise  conscious  that  this  agreeable 
feeling  in  me,  and  this  esteem  of  him,  depend 
entirely  upon  the  judgment  I  form  of  his  conduct. 
I  judge  that  this  conduct  merits  esteem ;  and, 
while  I  thus  judge,  I  cannot  but  esteem  him,  and 
contemplate  his  conduct  with  pleasure.  Persuade 
me  that  he  was  bribed,  or  that  he  acted  from  some 
mercenary  or  bad  motive,  immediately  my  esteem 
and  my  agreeable  feeling  vanish. 

In  the  approbation  of  a  good  action,  therefore, 
there  is  feeling  indeed,  but  there  is  also  esteem  of  the 
agent ;  and  both  the  feeling  and  the  esteem  depend 
upon  the  judgment  we  form  of  his  conduct. 

When  I  exercise  my  moral  faculty  about  my  own 
actions  or  those  of  other  men,  I  am  conscious  that 
I  judge  as  well  as  feel.  I  accuse  and  excuse,  I 
acquit  and  condemn,  I  assent  and  dissent,  I  believe 
and  disbelieve,  and  doubt.  These  are  acts  of 
judgment,  and  not  feelings. 

Suppose  that,  in  a  case  well  known  to  both,  my 
friend  says — Such  a  man  did  well  and  worthily,  his 
conduct  is  highly  approvable.     This  speech,  according 


REID  193 

to  all  rules  of  interpretation,  expresses  my  friend's 
judgment  of  the  man's  conduct.  This  judgment 
may  be  true  or  false,  and  I  may  agree  in  opinion 
with  him,  or  I  may  dissent  from  him  without  offence, 
as  we  may  differ  in  other  matters  of  judgment. 

Suppose,  again,  that,  in  relation  to  the  same  case, 
my  friend  says — The  mans  conduct  gave  me  a  very 
agreeable  feeling. 

This  speech,  if  approbation  be  nothing  but  an 
agreeable  feeling,  must  have  the  very  same  meaning 
with  the  first,  and  express  neither  more  nor  less. 
But  this  cannot  be,  for  two  reasons. 

First,  Because  there  is  no  rule  in  grammar  or 
rhetoric,  nor  any  usage  in  language,  by  which 
these  two  speeches  can  be  construed  so  as  to  have 
the  same  meaning.  The  first  expresses  plainly 
an  opinion  or  judgment  of  the  conduct  of  the  man, 
but  says  nothing  of  the  speaker.  The  second  only 
testifies  a  fact  concerning  the  speaker — to  wit,  that 
he  had  such  a  feeling. 

Another  reason  why  these  two  speeches  cannot 
mean  the  same  thing  is,  that  the  first  may  be 
contradicted  without  any  ground  of  offence,  such 
contradiction  being  only  a  difference  of  opinion, 
which,  to  a  reasonable  man,  gives  no  offence.  But 
the  second  speech  cannot  be  contradicted  without 
an  affront :  for,  as  every  man  must  know  his  own 
feelings,  to  deny  that  a  man  had  a  feeling  which  he 
affirms  he  had,  is  to  charge  him  with  falsehood. 

13 


194    PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

If  moral  approbation  be  a  real  judgment,  which 
produces  an  agreeable  feeling  in  the  mind  of  him 
who  judges,  both  speeches  are  perfectly  intelligible, 
in  the  most  obvious  and  literal  sense.  Their  mean- 
ing is  different,  but  they  are  related,  so  that  the 
one  may  be  inferred  from  the  other,  as  we  infer  the 
effect  from  the  cause,  or  the  cause  from  the  effect. 
I  know,  that  what  a  man  judges  to  be  a  very 
worthy  action,  he  contemplates  with  pleasure  ;  and 
what  he  contemplates  with  pleasure  must,  in  his 
judgment,  have  worth.  But  the  judgment  and  the 
feeling  are  different  acts  of  his  mind,  though  con- 
nected as  cause  and  effect.  He  can  express  either 
the  one  or  the  other  with  perfect  propriety  ;  but 
the  speech,  which  expresses  his  feeling,  is  altogether 
improper  and  inept  to  express  his  judgment,  for 
this  evident  reason,  that  judgment  and  feeling, 
though  in  some  cases  connected,  are  things  in  their 
nature  different.^ 

^  Ibid.,  pp.  670-673. 


ADAM    FERGUSON 


ADAM    FERGUSON 

OF   MAN'S   PROGRESSIVE   NATURE 

There  is  in  nature  a  well-known  distinction  of 
things  progressive,  and  stationary,  to  which  we 
must  attend  in  the  farther  pursuit  of  our  subject. 

To  be  stationary,  it  is  not  necessary  that  a  subject 
should  be  incapable  of  change,  even  from  the 
action  of  any  external  cause  ;  it  is  sufficient  that 
it  have  not  any  principle  of  change  in  its  own 
nature.  To  be  progressive,  on  the  contrary;  does 
not  consist  in  any  variation  or  change  which  an 
external  cause  may  produce  ;  but  in  those  transi- 
tions, from  one  state  to  another,  which  proceed 
from  a  principle  of  advancement  in  the  subject 
itself. 

A  block  of  stone,  from  the  quarry,  may  receive, 
in  the  hands  of  a  workman,  any  variety  of  forms, 
but  left  to  itself,  would  remain  in  its  state. 

A  seedling  plant  on  the  contrary,  in  a  favourable 
soil  and  exposure,  takes  root  and  grows  of  itself. 

Progressive  natures  are  subject  to  vicissitudes  of 
advancement  or  decline,  but  are  not  stationary, 
perhaps,  in  any  period  of  their  existence.     Thus,  in 

197 


198    PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

the  material  world,  subjects  organized  being  pro- 
gressive, when  they  cease  to  advance,  begin  to 
decline,  however  insensibly,  at  the  time  of  their 
transition  from  one  to  the  other.  In  this  consist 
the  operation  or  failure  of  vegetable  and  animal 
life.  In  their  advancement,  the  matter  of  which 
they  are  composed  accumulates,  and  at  every 
period  acquires  a  form  that  approaches  to  the  end 
of  their  progress.  The  principle  of  life  itself  gains 
strength  or  ability  to  discharge,  and  to  vary,  the 
functions  of  nature.  In  their  decline  they  fade, 
shrink,  and  abate  of  their  vigour  and  force. 

Intelligence  appears  to  be,  in  a  still  higher  degree, 
a  principle  of  progression,  and  subject  to  greater 
extremes  of  comparative  advancement  or  degrada- 
tion. It  is  advanced  by  continual  accessions  of 
observation  and  knowledge  ;  of  skill  and  habit,  in 
the  practice  of  arts ;  of  improving  discernment 
of  good  and  evil ;  of  resolute  purpose  or  power. 
It  declines  through  defect  of  memory,  discernment, 
affection,  and  resolution. 

While  subjects  stationary  are  described  by  the 
enumeration  of  co-existent  parts,  and  quiescent 
qualities,  subjects  progressive  are  characterized 
by  the  enumeration  of  steps,  in  the  passage  from 
one  form  or  state  of  existence  to  another,  and  by 
the  termination  or  point  of  approach,  whether  near 
or  remote,  to  which  the  successive  movements  of 
their  nature  are  directed. 


FERGUSON  199 

The  rank  of  a  progressive  subject  is  to  be  esti- 
mated, not  by  its  condition  at  any  particular  stage 
of  its  progress,  but  by  its  capacity  and  destination 
to  advance  in  the  scale  of  being.  From  the  feeblest 
shoot  or  seed-leaf  of  the  oak,  though  more  diminu- 
tive than  many  plants  of  the  garden,  we  already 
forecast  the  stately  fabric  it  is  designed  to  raise  in 
the  forest.  In  the  human  infant,  though  inferior 
to  the  young  of  many  other  animals,  we  anticipate 
the  beauty  of  youth,  the  vigorous  soul  of  manhood, 
and  the  wisdom  of  age.  And  the  highest  rank, 
in  the  scale  of  created  existence,  is  due  to  that 
nature,  if  such  there  be,  which  is  destined  to  grow 
in  perfection,  and  may  grow  without  end  :  its  good 
is  advancement,  and  its  evil,  decline. 

We  are  inclined  to  consider  progression  as  made 
up  of  stationary  periods  ;  as  we  consider  a  circle 
as  a  polygon  of  an  infinite  number  of  sides  ;  a 
fluid  as  made  up  of  solid  parts  indefinitely  small  ; 
and  duration  itself,  as  made  up  of  successive 
points,  or  indivisible  moments  of  time. 

In  this  our  conception  is  inaccurate,  and  our 
reasoning,  of  course,  likely  to  become  incorrect. 
Progression  may,  no  doubt,  be  divided  into  periods  ; 
but  in  no  period,  perhaps,  is  the  subject  stationary. 
Every  subdivision,  like  the  whole  of  its  progress,  is 
a  transition  from  one  state  to  another,  and  through 
states  intermediate,  more  or  less  numerous  according 
to  the  divisions  under  which  we  are  pleased  to 


200     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

conceive  them.  The  progress  of  intelligent  being, 
for  instance,  may  be  more  or  less  rapid,  but  is 
continual ;  and  in  the  very  continuance  of  exist- 
ence, and  the  repetition  of  consciousness  and 
perception,  must  receive  continual  increments  of 
knowledge  and  thought.  Or  in  the  failure  of  the 
source  from  which  it  derives  improvement,  it  is 
likely  to  incur  degradation  and  decline. 

For  our  purpose,  however,  it  is  sufficient  to 
observe,  that  the  state  of  nature  or  the  distinctive 
character  of  any  progressive  being  is  to  be  taken,  not 
from  its  description  at  the  outset,  or  at  any  subse- 
quent stage  of  its  progress  ;  but  from  an  accumula- 
tive view  of  its  movement  throughout.  The  oak 
is  distinguishable  from  the  pine,  not  merely  by  its 
seed  leaf ;  but  by  every  successive  aspect  of  its 
form  ;  by  its  foliage  in  every  successive  season  ;  by 
its  acorn  ;  by  its  spreading  top  ;  by  its  lofty  growth, 
and  the  length  of  its  period.  And  the  state  of 
nature,  relative  to  every  tree  in  the  wood,  includes 
all  the  varieties  of  form  or  dimension  through  which 
it  is  known  to  pass  in  the  course  of  its  nature. 

By  parity  of  reason,  the  natural  state  of  a  living 
creature  includes  all  its  known  variations,  from  the 
embryo  and  the  foetus  to  the  breathing  animal,  the 
adolescent  and  the  adult,  through  which  life  in  all 
its  varieties  is  known  to  pass. 

The  state  of  nature,  relative  to  man,  is  also  a 
state  of  progression  equally  real,   and  of  greater 


FERGUSON  201 

extent.  The  individual  receives  the  hrst  stamina 
of  his  frame  in  a  growing  state.  His  stature  is 
waxing,  his  Hmbs  and  his  organs  gain  strength,  and 
he  himself  a  growing  facility  in  the  use  of  them. 
His  faculties  improve  by  exercise,  and  are  in  a 
continual  state  of  exertion. 

If  his  thoughts  pass  from  one  subject  to  another, 
he  can  return  to  the  subject  he  has  left,  with  some 
acquired  advantage  of  discernment  or  compre- 
hension. He  accumulates  perceptions  and  observa- 
tions, takes  cognizance  of  new  subjects,  without 
forgetting  the  old  ;  knows  more,  of  course,  at  every 
subsequent  period  than  he  did  in  a  former  ;  reasons 
more  securely ;  penetrates  obscurities,  which  at  first 
embarrassed  him ;  and  performs  every  operation  of 
thought  with  more  facility  and  more  success. 

With  respect  to  the  period  of  his  existence  he 
sees  it  but  in  part.  When  he  looks  back  to  the  point 
from  which  he  set  out,  he  cannot  descry  it ;  when 
he  looks  forward  to  the  end  of  his  line,  he  cannot 
foresee  it.  He  may  observe  the  birth  and  the  death 
of  a  fellow  creature,  but  knows  nothing  of  his  own. 
If  he  were  to  assume  the  earliest  date  he  remembers 
as  the  beginning  of  his  existence,  he  might  soon 
be  convinced  that  he  overlooked  a  considerable 
period  which  had  preceded  ;  or  if  he  should  suppose 
his  being  to  end  with  the  dissolution  of  his  animal 
frame,  it  is  possible  he  might  be  equally  mistaken. 
Yet   he   finds   nothing   in   the   world   around   him 


202     PHILOSOPHY  OF  COMMON  SENSE 

beyond  the  limits  of  what  he  can  collect  from  the 
remembrance  of  the  past,  or  infer  by  sagacity  from 
the  laws  of  nature  in  foresight  of  the  future,  from 
which  he  can  fix  any  certain  marks  of  his  own 
beginning  or  his  end. 

Such,  without  entering  into  the  peculiarities  or 
unequal  degrees  of  power  incident  to  different  men, 
we  may  assume  as  the  state  of  nature  relative  to 
the  individual. 

The  state  of  nature  relative  to  the  species  is 
differently  constituted,  and  of  different  extent.  It 
consists  in  the  continual  succession  of  one  genera- 
tion to  another  ;  in  progressive  attainments  made 
by  different  ages  ;  communicated  with  additions 
from  age  to  age ;  and  in  periods,  the  farthest 
advanced,  not  appearing  to  have  arrived  at  any 
necessary  limit.  This  progress  indeed  is  subject 
to  interruption,  and  may  come  to  a  close,  or  give 
way  to  vicissitude  at  any  of  its  stages  ;  but  not  more 
necessarily  at  the  period  of  highest  attainment  than 
at  any  other. 

So  long  as  the  son  continues  to  be  taught  what 
the  father  knew,  or  the  pupil  begins  where  the  tutor 
has  ended,  and  is  equally  bent  on  advancement ;  to 
every  generation  the  state  of  arts  and  accommoda- 
tions already  in  use  serves  but  as  groundwork  for  new 
invention  and  successive  improvement.  As  Newton 
did  not  acquiesce  in  what  was  observed  by  Kepler 
and   Galileo  ;    no   more   have  successive   astrono- 


FERGUSON  203 

mers  restricted  their  view  to  what  Newton  has 
demonstrated.  And,  with  respect  to  the  mechanic 
and  commercial  arts,  even  in  the  midst  of  the  most 
laboured  accommodations,  so  long  as  there  is  any 
room  for*  improvement,  invention  is  busy  as  if 
nothing  had  yet  been  done  to  supply  the  necessities, 
or  complete  the  conveniences  of  human  life.  But 
even  here,  and  in  all  its  steps  of  progression,  this 
active  nature,  in  respect  to  the  advantages,  whether 
of  knowledge  or  art,  derived  from  others,  if  there 
be  not  a  certain  effort  to  advance,  is  exposed  to 
reverse  and  decline.  The  generation,  in  which  there 
is  no  desire  to  know  more  or  practise  better  than  its 
predecessors,  will  probably  neither  know  so  much  nor 
practise  so  well.  And  the  decline  of  successive  gener- 
ations, under  this  wane  of  intellectual  ability,  is  not 
less  certain  than  the  progress  made  under  the  opera- 
tion of  a  more  active  and  forward  disposition. 

Such  is  the  state  of  nature  relative  to  the  human 
species  ;  and,  in  this,  as  in  every  other  progressive 
subject,  the  present  being  intermediate  to  the  past 
and  the  future,  may  be  different  from  either.  Each 
is  a  part  of  the  whole  ;  and  neither  can,  with  any 
reason,  be  said  to  be  more  natural  than  the  others. 
It  cannot  be  said,  that  it  is  more  natural  for  the 
oak  to  spring  from  its  seed  than  to  overshadow  the 
plain  ;  that  it  is  more  natural  for  water  to  gush 
from  the  land  in  springs  than  to  flow  in  rivers,  and 
to  mix  with  the  sea. 


204     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

The  state  of  nature  relative  to  man,  however,  is 
sometimes  a  mere  term  of  abstraction,  in  which 
he  is  stated  apart  from  the  society  he  forms,  from 
the  art  he  invents,  the  science  he  acquires,  or 
the  poHtical  estabhshment  he  makes.  And,  when 
his  progress  in  any  of  these  respects  is  to  be  con- 
sidered, it  is  no  doubt  convenient  to  consider  the 
particular  in  question  apart  from  himself,  and  from 
every  thing  else.  It  is  not,  however,  to  be  supposed, 
that  man  ever  existed  apart  from  the  qualities  and 
operations  of  his  own  nature,  or  that  any  one 
operation  and  quality  existed  without  the  others. 
The  whole,  indeed,  is  connected  together,  and  any 
part  may  vary  in  measure  or  degree,  while  in  its 
nature  and  kind  it  is  still  the  same. 

The  child  may  be  considered  apart  from  his  parent, 
and  the  parent  apart  from  his  child  ;  but  the  latter 
would  not  have  existed  without  the  former.  If  we 
trace  human  society  back  to  this  its  simplest 
constitution,  even  there  the  society  was  real. 
If  we  trace  human  thought  back  to  its  simplest 
exertions,  even  there  it  was  an  exercise  of  under- 
standing, and  some  effort  of  invention  or  skill. 

The  groups  in  which  the  rudest  of  men  were 
placed,  had  their  chiefs  and  their  members  ;  and 
nothing  that  the  human  species  ever  attained,  in 
the  latest  period  of  its  progress,  was  altogether  with- 
out a  germ  or  principle  from  which  it  is  derived,  in 
the  earliest  or  most  ancient  state  of  mankind. 


FERGUSON  205 

It  may  no  doubt  be  convenient,  we  may  again 
repeat,  in  speculation,  or  in  assigning  the  origin 
and  in  deriving  the  progress  of  any  attainment,  to 
consider  the  attainment  itself  abstractly,  or  apart 
from  the  faculty  or  power  by  which  it  is  made  ; 
and  we  must  not  deny  ourselves  the  use  of  such 
abstractions,  in  treating  of  human  nature,  any  more 
than  in  treating  of  any  other  subject.  But  there 
is  a  caution  to  be  observed  in  the  use  of  abstrac- 
tions, relating  to  any  subject  whatever  :  That 
they  be  not  mistaken  for  realities,  nor  obtruded  for 
historical  facts. 

The  language  of  geometry  is  necessarily  abstract. 
A  point  is  mere  place,  considered  apart  from  any 
dimension  whatever.  A  line  is  length,  considered 
apart  from  breadth  or  thickness.  A  surface 
is  length  and  breadth,  considered  apart  from  thick- 
ness. And,  in  a  solid,  all  the  dimensions  of  length, 
breadth,  and  thickness,  are  admitted.  But  the 
geometrical  abstractions  are  nowhere  mistaken 
for  realities :  length  is  not  supposed  to  exist 
without  breadth,  nor  length  and  breadth  without 
thickness.  Or,  if  such  mistakes  are  actually 
made,  yet,  no  one  would  infer  that  lines  are  more 
natural  than  surfaces,  or  surfaces  more  natural 
than  solids. 

Such  mistake  and  misapprehension  of  terms  is 
scarcely  admitted,  except  in  treating  of  human 
nature.     In  every  other  progressive  subject,  pro- 


2o6    PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

gression  itself,  not  any  particular  step  in  the  pro- 
gress, is  supposed  to  constitute  the  natural  state. 
The  last  shoot  of  the  oak,  after  it  has  stood  five  hun- 
dred years  in  the  forest,  and  carried  a  thousand 
branches,  is  not  deemed  less  natural  than  the  first. 

Under  this  term,  of  the  State  of  Nature,  authors 
affect  to  look  back  to  the  first  ages  of  man,  not  with- 
out some  apparent  design  to  depreciate  his  nature, 
by  placing  his  origin  in  some  unfavourable  point  of 
view ;  as  we  derogate,  from  the  supposed  honours 
of  a  family,  by  looking  back  to  the  mechanics  or 
peasants,  from  whom  its  ancestors  were  descended. 

Hobbes  contended,  that  men  were  originally 
in  a  state  of  war,  and  undisposed  to  amity  or  peace  ; 
that  society,  altogether  unnatural  to  its  members, 
is  to  be  established  and  preserved  by  force.  Or 
this,  at  least,  may  be  supposed  to  follow  from  his 
general  assumption  that  the  state  of  nature  was  a 
state  of  war. 

If  this  point  must  be  seriously  argued,  we  may  ask 
in  what  sense  war  is  the  state  of  nature  ?  Not 
surely  the  only  state  of  which  men  are  susceptible  ; 
for  we  find  them  at  peace  as  well  as  at  war  :  nor 
can  we  suppose  it  the  state  which  mankind  ought  at 
all  times  to  prefer  ;  for  it  labours  under  many 
inconveniences  and  defects.  But  it  was,  we  may  be 
told,  the  first  and  the  earliest  state,  from  which 
men  were  relieved  by  convention  and  adventitious 
establishments. 


FERGUSON  207 

This  assertion,  that  war  was  the  earhest  state  of 
mankind,  is  made  without  proof ;  for  the  first 
ages  of  the  human  species,  in  times  past,  are  as 
Httle  known  as  the  last,  that  may  close  the  scene 
of  its  being  in  times  to  come.  In  every  progression, 
it  is  true,  may  be  conceived  a  point  of  origin,  and 
a  point  of  termination,  to  be  collected  from  the 
direction  in  which  the  progress  proceeds.  The  sun, 
even  by  a  person  who  never  saw  him  rise  or  set, 
may  be  supposed,  from  the  course  he  holds,  to  have 
risen  in  the  east,  and  to  set  in  the  west.  Man,  who 
is  advancing  in  knowledge  and  art,  may  be  supposed 
to  have  begun  in  ignorance  or  rudeness  ;  but  it  is 
not  necessary  to  suppose  that  a  species,  of  whom 
the  individuals  are  sometimes  at  war,  and  some- 
times at  peace,  must  have  begun  in  war.  There  is, 
on  the  contrary,  much  reason  to  suppose,  that  they 
began  in  peace,  and  continued  in  peace,  until 
some  occasion  of  quarrel  arose  between  them. 

The  progress  of  the  species,  in  population  and 
numbers,  implies  an  original  peace,  at  least,  between 
the  sexes,  and  between  the  parent  and  his  child, 
in  family  together  ;  and,  if  we  are  to  suppose  a 
state  of  war  between  brothers,  this,  at  least,  must 
have  been  posterior  to  the  peace  in  which  they  were 
born  and  brought  up,  to  the  peace  in  which  they 
arrived  at  the  possession  of  those  talents,  and  that 
force,  which  they  come  to  employ  for  mutual 
destruction. 


2o8     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

Another  philosopher,  in  this  school  of  nature,  has 
chosen  to  fix  the  original  description  of  man,  in  a 
state  of  brutaHty,  unconscious  of  himself,  and 
ignorant  of  his  kind  ;  so  far  from  being  destined 
to  the  use  of  reason,  that  all  the  attempts  he  has 
made  at  the  exercise  of  this  dangerous  faculty  have 
opened  but  one  continual  source  of  depravation 
and  misery. 

But,  as  the  former  of  these  philosophers  has  not 
told  us  what  beneficent  power,  different  from  man 
himself,  has  made  peace  for  this  refractory  being  ; 
no  more  has  the  other  informed  us,  who  invented 
reason  for  man  ;  whose  thoughts  and  reflections 
first  disturbed  the  tranquillity  of  his  brutal  nature, 
and  brought  this  victim  of  care  into  this  anxious 
state  of  reflection,  to  which  are  imputed  so  many 
of  his  follies  and  sufferings. 

Until  we  are  told  by  whom  the  state  of  nature 
was  done  away,  and  a  new  one  substituted,  we  must 
continue  to  suppose  that  this  is  the  work  of  man 
himself ;  and  the  whole  of  what  these  shrewd 
philosophers  have  taught,  amounts  to  no  more  than 
this,  that  man  would  be  found  in  a  state  of  war,  or 
in  a  state  of  brutality,  if  it  were  not  for  himself,  for 
his  own  qualifications  and  his  endeavours  to  obtain 
a  better  ;  and  that,  in  reality,  the  situation  he  gains 
is  the  effect  of  a  faculty  by  which  he  is  disposed 
to  choose  for  himself. 

This  we  are  ready  to  admit.     Man  is  made  for 


FERGUSON  209 

society  and  the  attainments  of  reason.  If,  by  any 
conjuncture,  he  is  deprived  of  these  advantages, 
he  will  sooner  or  later  find  his  way  to  them.  If  he 
came  from  a  beginning,  defective  in  these  respects, 
he  was,  from  the  first,  disposed  to  supply  his 
defects  ;  in  process  of  time  has  actually  done  so ; 
continued  to  improve  upon  every  advantage  he 
gains ;  and  thus  to  advance,  we  may  again  repeat, 
is  the  state  of  nature  relative  to  him. 

It  were  absurd  to  think  of  depreciating  a  pro- 
gressive being,  by  pointing  out  the  state  of  defect, 
from  which  he  has  passed,  to  the  attainment  of  a 
better  and  a  higher  condition  ;  for  so  to  pass  is 
the  specific  excellence  of  his  nature. 

The  grandeur  of  the  forest  is  not  the  less  real,  for 
its  having  sprung  up  from  among  the  weeds  of  the 
field  :  the  genius  of  Newton  not  the  less  to  be 
admired,  for  his  having  grown  up  from  the  ignorance 
and  simplicity  of  his  infant  years  :  nor  the  policy 
of  Athens,  Sparta,  or  Rome,  less  to  be  valued, 
because  they  may  have  sprung  from  hordes,  no 
way  superior  to  those  who  are  now  found  in 
different  parts  of  Africa  or  America. 

It  is  the  nature  of  progression  to  have  an  origin, 
far  short  of  the  attainments  which  it  is  directed  to 
make  ;  and  not  any  precise  measure  of  attainment, 
but  the  passage  or  transition  from  defect  to  per- 
fection is  that  which  constitutes  the  felicity  of  a 
progressive  nature.     The  happy  being,  accordingly, 

14 


210    PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

whose  destination  is  to  better  himself,  must  not 
consider  the  defect  under  which  he  labours,  at  the 
outset,  or  in  any  subsequent  part  of  his  progress, 
as  a  limit  set  to  his  ambition,  but  as  an  occasion 
and  a  spur  to  his  efforts. 

The  life  and  activity  of  intelligent  beings  con- 
sists in  the  consciousness  or  perception  of  an  im- 
proveable  state,  and  in  the  effort  to  operate  upon 
it  for  the  better.  This  constitutes  an  unremitting 
principle  of  ambition  in  human  nature.  Men  have 
different  objects,  and  succeed  unequally  in  the  pur- 
suit of  them :  but  every  person,  in  one  sense  or 
another,  is  earnest  to  better  himself. 

Man  is  by  nature  an  artist,  endowed  with  in- 
genuity, discernment,  and  will.  These  faculties 
he  is  qualified  to  employ  on  different  materials  ; 
but  is  chiefly  concerned  to  employ  them  on  him- 
self: over  this  subject  his  power  is  most  im- 
mediate and  most  complete ;  as  he  may  know 
the  law,  according  to  which  his  progress  is  effected, 
by  conforming  himself  to  it,  he  may  hasten  or 
secure  the  result. 

The  bulk  of  mankind  are,  like  other  parts  of  the 
system,  subjected  to  the  law  of  their  nature,  and, 
without  knowing  it,  are  led  to  accomplish  its  pur- 
pose :  while  they  intend  no  more  than  subsistence 
and  accommodation  or  the  peace  of  society,  and  the 
safety  of  their  persons  and  their  property,  their 
faculties  are  brought  into  use,  and  they  profit  by 


FERGUSON  211 

exercise.  In  mutually  conducting  their  relative 
interests  and  concerns,  they  acquire  the  habits 
of  political  life  ;  are  made  to  taste  of  their  highest 
enjoyments,  in  the  affections  of  benevolence, 
integrity,  and  elevation  of  mind;  and,  before 
they  have  deliberately  considered  in  what  the 
merit  or  felicity  of  their  own  nature  consist, 
have  already  learned  to  perform  many  of  its 
noblest  functions. 

Nature  in  this  as  in  many  other  instances  does 
not  entrust  the  conduct  of  her  works  to  the  pre- 
carious views  and  designs  of  any  subordinate  agent. 
But  if  the  progress  of  man  in  every  instance  were 
matter  of  necessity  or  even  of  contingency,  and  no 
way  dependent  on  his  will,  nor  subjected  to  his 
command,  we  should  conclude  that  this  sovereign 
rank  and  responsibility  of  a  moral  agent  with  which 
he  is  vested  were  given  in  vain  ;  and  the  capacity 
of  erecting  a  fabric  of  art,  on  the  foundation  of 
the  laws  of  nature,  were  denied  to  him  in  that 
department  precisely  in  which  they  are  of  the  highest 
account.  If  he  may  work  on  the  clay  that  is  placed 
under  his  foot,  and  form  it  into  models  of  grace  and 
beauty  ;  if  he  may  employ  the  powers  of  gravita- 
tion, elasticity,  and  magnetism,  as  the  ministers 
of  his  pleasure  ;  we  may  suppose,  also,  that  the 
knowledge  of  laws  operating  on  himself  should 
direct  him  how  to  proceed,  and  enable  him  to 
hasten  the  advantages,   to  which  his  progressive 


212     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

nature  is  competent.  If  his  Maker  have  destined 
his  faculties  to  improve  by  exercise,  and  by  the 
attainment  of  habits,  there  is  no  doubt  that  he 
himself  may  choose  what  exercise  he  will  perform, 
and  what  habits  he  shall  acquire. 

But  in  order  to  profit  by  the  laws  of  progression 
which  take  place  in  his  frame,  it  behoves  him  to 
recollect  what  they  are,  and  to  take  his  resolution 
respecting  the  purpose  to  which  he  will  apply  their 
force. 

To  this  object,  he  is  urged  at  once  by  the  double 
consideration  of  a  good  to  be  obtained,  and  of  an 
evil  to  be  avoided.  Most  subjects  in  nature, 
which,  from  the  energy  of  a  salutary  principle,  are 
susceptible  of  advancement,  are  likewise,  by  the 
failure  or  abuse  of  that  principle,  susceptible  of 
degradation  and  ruin.  Plants  and  animals  are 
known  to  perish,  in  the  same  gradual  manner  in 
which  they  advance  into  strength  and  beauty. 
Man,  with  whom  the  sources  of  good  and  of  evil 
are  more  entrusted  to  his  own  management,  is 
likewise  exposed,  in  a  much  higher  degree,  to  the 
extremes  of  comparative  degradation  and  misery. 
The  progress  of  nations  in  one  age  to  high  measures 
of  intellectual  attainment  and  cultivated  manners 
is  not  more  remarkable  than  the  decline  that  some- 
times ensues  in  their  fall  to  extreme  depravation 
and  intellectual  debility. 

It  may  not  be  in  the  power  of  the  individual 


FERGUSON  213 

greatly  to  promote  the  advancement  or  to  retard 
the  dedine  of  his  country.  But  every  person, 
being  principally  interested  in  himself,  is  the 
absolute  master  of  his  own  will,  and  for  the  choice 
he  shall  have  made  is  alone  responsible.^ 

^  Principles  of  Moral  and  Political  Science,  vol.  i.  pp.  189-202. 


JAMES    BEATTIE 


JAMtS    BEATTIE 

OF  THE  PERCEPTION  OF  TRUTH  IN 
GENERAL 

On  hearing  these  propositions, — I  exist,  things 
equal  to  one  and  the  same  thing  are  equal  to  one 
another,  the  sun  rose  to-day,  there  is  a  God,  in- 
gratitude ought  to  be  blamed  and  punished,  the 
three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right 
angles,  etc. — I  am  conscious  that  my  mind  admits 
and  acquiesces  in  them.  I  say,  that  I  believe  them 
to  be  true  ;  that  is,  I  conceive  them  to  express 
something  conformable  to  the  nature  of  things. 
Of  the  contrary  propositions  I  should  say,  that  my 
mind  does  not  acquiesce  in  them,  but  disbelieves 
them,  and  conceives  them  to  express  something 
not  conformable  to  the  nature  of  things.  My 
judgment  in  this  case,  I  conceive  to  be  the  same 
that  I  should  form  in  regard  to  these  propositions, 
if  I  were  perfectly  acquainted  with  all  nature,  in  all 
its  parts,  and  in  all  its  laws. 

If  I  be  asked,  what  I  mean  by  the  nature  of  things, 
I  cannot  otherwise  explain  myself  than  by  saying, 
that  there  is  in  my  mind  something  which  induces 

217 


2i8     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

me  to  think,  that  every  thing  existing  in  nature  is 
determined  to  exist,  and  to  exist  after  a  certain 
manner,  in  consequence  of  established  laws  ;  and 
that  whatever  is  agreeable  to  those  laws  is  agree- 
able to  the  nature  of  things,  because  by  those  laws 
the  nature  of  all  things  is  determined.  Of  those 
laws  I  do  not  pretend  to  know  any  thing  except  so 
far  as  they  seem  to  be  intimated  to  me  by  my  own 
feelings,  and  by  the  suggestions  of  my  own  under- 
standing. But  these  feelings  and  suggestions  are 
such,  and  affect  me  in  such  a  manner,  that  I  cannot 
help  receiving  them,  and  trusting  in  them,  and 
believing  that  their  intimations  are  not  fallacious, 
but  such  as  I  should  approve  if  I  were  perfectly 
acquainted  with  every  thing  in  the  universe,  and 
such  as  I  may  approve,  and  admit  of,  and  regulate 
my  conduct  by,  without  danger  of  any  incon- 
venience. 

It  is  not  easy  on  this  subject  to  avoid  identical 
expressions.  I  am  not  certain  that  I  have  been  able 
to  avoid  them.  And  perhaps  I  might  have  ex- 
pressed my  meaning  more  shortly  and  more  clearly, 
by  saying,  that  I  account  that  to  be  truth  which  the 
constitution  of  our  nature  determines  us  to  believe, 
and  that  to  be  falsehood  which  the  constitution  of 
our  nature  determines  us  to  disbelieve.  Believing 
and  disbelieving  are  simple  acts  of  the  mind  ;  I  can 
neither  define  nor  describe  them  in  words  ;  and 
therefore  the  reader  must  judge  of  their  nature 


BE  ATT  IE  219 

from  his  own  experience.  We  often  believe  what 
we  afterwards  find  to  be  false ;  but  while  belief 
continues,  we  think  it  true ;  when  we  discover  its 
falsity,  we  believe  it  no  longer. 

Hitherto  I  have  used  the  word  belief  to  denote  an 
act  of  the  mind  which  attends  the  perception  of 
truth  in  general.  But  truths  are  of  different  kinds  ; 
some  are  certain,  others  only  probable  :  and  we 
ought  not  to  call  that  act  of  the  mind  which  attends 
the  perception  of  certainty,  and  that  which  attends 
the  perception  of  probability,  by  one  and  the  same 
name.  Some  have  called  the  former  conviction, 
and  the  latter  assent.  All  convictions  are  equally 
strong  ;  but  assent  admits  of  innumerable  degrees, 
from  moral  certainty,  which  is  the  highest  degree, 
downward,  through  the  several  stages  of  opinion,  to 
that  suspense  of  judgment  which  is  called  doubt. 

We  may,  without  absurdity,  speak  of  probable 
truth,  as  well  as  of  certain  truth.  Whatever  a 
rational  being  is  determined,  by  the  constitution 
of  his  nature,  to  admit  as  probable,  may  be  called 
probable  truth  ;  the  acknowledgment  of  it  is  as 
universal  as  that  rational  nature,  and  will  be  as 
permanent.  But,  in  this  enquiry,  we  propose  to 
confine  ourselves  chiefly  to  that  kind  of  truth  which 
may  be  called  certain,  which  enforces  our  con- 
viction, and  the  belief  of  which,  in  a  sound  mind, 
is  not  tinctured  with  any  doubt  or  uncertainty. 

The    investigation    and    perception    of    truth    is 


220     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

commonly  ascribed  to  our  rational  faculties ;  and 
these  have  by  some  been  reduced  to  two, — Reason 
and  Judgment ;  the  former  being  supposed  to  be 
conversant  about  certain  truths,  the  latter  chiefly 
about  probabilities.  But  certain  truths  are  not  all 
of  the  same  kind  ;  some  being  supported  by  one 
sort  of  evidence  and  others  by  another  :  different 
energies  of  the  understanding  must  therefore  be 
exerted  in  perceiving  them ;  and  these  different 
energies  must  be  expressed  by  different  names, 
if  we  would  speak  of  them  distinctly  and  intelli- 
gibly. The  certainty  of  some  truths,  for  instance, 
is  perceived  intuitively  ;  the  certainty  of  others  is 
perceived  not  intuitively,  but  in  consequence  of  a 
proof.  Most  of  the  propositions  of  Euclid  are  of 
the  latter  kind  ;  the  axioms  of  geometry  are  of  the 
former.  Now,  if  that  faculty  by  which  we  perceive 
truth  in  consequence  of  a  proof,  be  called  Reason, 
that  power  by  which  we  perceive  self-evident  truth 
ought  to  be  distinguished  by  a  different  name. 
It  is  of  little  consequence  what  name  we  make 
choice  of,  provided  that  in  choosing  it  we  depart  not 
from  the  analogy  of  language  ;  and  that,  in  applying 
it,  we  avoid  equivocation  and  ambiguity.  Some 
philosophers  of  note  have  given  the  name  of 
Common  Sense  to  that  faculty  by  which  we  perceive 
self-evident  truth  ;  and,  as  the  term  seems  proper 
enough,  we  shall  adopt  it.^ 

1  Essay  on  the  Nature  and  Immutability  of  Truth,  pp.  22-27. 


BEATTIE  221 

The  term  Common  Sense  has  several  different 
significations.  i.  Sometimes  it  seems  to  be 
synonymous  with  prudence.  Thus  we  say,  that  a 
man  has  a  large  stock  of  common  sense,  who  is 
quick  in  perceiving  remote  consequences,  and 
thence  instantaneously  determines  concerning  the 
propriety  of  present  conduct.  2.  We  often  meet 
with  persons  of  great  sagacity  in  most  of  the 
ordinary  affairs  of  life,  and  very  capable  of  accurate 
reasoning,  who  yet,  without  any  bad  intention, 
commit  blunders  in  regard  to  decorum ;  by  saying 
or  doing  what  is  offensive  to  their  company,  and 
inconsistent  with  their  own  character  ;  and  this 
we  are  apt  to  impute  to  a  defect  in  common  sense. 
But  it  seems  rather  to  be  owing  to  a  defect  in  that 
kind  of  sensibility,  or  sympathy,  by  which  we  sup- 
pose ourselves  in  the  situations  of  others,  adopt 
their  sentiments,  and  in  a  manner  perceive  their 
thoughts  ;  and  which  is  indeed  the  foundation  of 
good  breeding.  It  is  by  this  secret,  and  sudden,  and 
(to  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  it)  inexplicable 
communication  of  feelings,  that  a  man  is  enabled 
to  avoid  what  would  appear  incongruous  or  offensive. 
They  who  are  prompted  by  inclination,  or  obliged 
by  necessity,  to  study  the  art  of  recommending 
themselves  to  others,  acquire  a  wonderful  facility 
in  perceiving  and  avoiding  all  possible  ways  of 
giving  offence ;  which  is  a  proof,  that  this  kind  of 
sensibility  may  be  improved  by  habit ;    although 


222     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

there  are,  no  doubt,  in  respect  of  this,  as  well  as 
of  some  other  modifications  of  perception,  original 
and  constitutional  differences  in  the  frame  of 
different  minds.  3.  Some  men  are  distinguished  by 
an  uncommon  acuteness  in  discovering  the  char- 
acters of  others  ;  they  seem  to  read  the  soul  in  the 
countenance,  and  with  a  single  glance  to  penetrate 
the  deepest  recesses  of  the  heart.  In  their  presence, 
the  hypocrite  is  detected,  notwithstanding  his 
specious  outside ;  the  gay  effrontery  of  the  cox- 
comb cannot  conceal  his  insignificance  ;  and  the 
man  of  merit  appears  conspicuous  under  all  the  dis- 
guises of  an  ungainly  modesty.  This  talent  is 
sometimes  called  Common  Sense ;  but  improperly. 
It  is  far  from  being  common  ;  it  is  even  exceedingly 
rare  :  it  is  to  be  found  in  men  who  are  not  remark- 
able for  any  other  mental  excellence  ;  and  we  often 
see  those  who  in  other  respects  are  judicious  enough, 
quite  destitute  of  it.  4.  Neither  ought  every 
common  opinion  to  be  referred  to  common  sense. 
Modes  in  dress,  religion,  and  conversation,  however 
absurd  in  themselves,  may  suit  the  notions  or  the 
taste  of  a  particular  people  :  but  none  of  us  will 
say,  that  it  is  agreeable  to  common  sense,  to  worship 
more  gods  than  one  ;  to  believe  that  one  and  the 
same  body  may  be  in  ten  thousand  different 
places  at  the  same  time  ;  to  like  a  face  the  better 
because  it  is  painted,  or  to  dislike  a  person  because 
he  does  not  lisp  in  his  pronunciation.     Lastly,  the 


BE  ATT  IE  223 

term  Common  Sense  has  been  used  by  some  philo- 
sophers to  signify  that  power  of  the  mind  which 
perceives  truth,  or  commands  behef,  not  by  pro- 
gressive argumentation,  but  by  an  instantaneous 
and  instinctive  impulse ;  derived  neither  from 
education  nor  from  habit,  but  from  nature  ;  acting 
independently  on  our  will,  whenever  its  object  is 
presented,  according  to  an  established  law,  and 
therefore  not  improperly  called  Sense  ;  and  acting 
in  a  similar  manner  upon  all  mankind,  and  there- 
fore properly  called  Common  Sense.  It  is  in  this 
signification  that  the  term  Common  Sense  is  used 
in  the  present  enquiry. 

That  there  is  a  real  and  essential  difference 
between  these  two  faculties  ;  that  common  sense 
cannot  be  accounted  for,  by  being  called  the  per- 
fection of  reason,  nor  reason,  by  being  resolved  into 
common  sense,  will  perhaps  appear  from  the 
following  remarks,  i.  We  are  conscious,  from 
internal  feeling,  that  the  energy  of  understanding 
which  perceives  intuitive  truth,  is  different  from 
that  other  energy  which  unites  a  conclusion  with 
a  first  principle,  by  a  gradual  chain  of  intermediate 
relations.  We  believe  the  truth  of  an  investigated 
conclusion,  because  we  can  assign  a  reason  for  our 
belief ;  we  believe  an  intuitive  principle,  without 
being  able  to  assign  any  other  reason  but  this,  that 
we  know  it  to  be  true  ;  or  that  the  law  of  our 
nature,  or  the  constitution  of  the  human  under- 


224    PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

standing,  determines  us  to  believe  it.  2.  We 
cannot  discern  any  necessary  connection  between 
reason  and  common  sense  :  they  are  indeed  gener- 
ally connected ;  but  we  can  conceive  a  being 
endued  with  the  one  who  is  destitute  of  the  other. 
Nay,  we  often  find,  that  this  is  in  fact  the  case. 
In  dreams,  we  sometimes  reason  without  common 
sense.  Through  a  defect  of  common  sense,  we  adopt 
absurd  principles  ;  but  supposing  our  principles 
true,  our  reasoning  is  often  unexceptionable.  ^ 

In  the  science  of  body,  glorious  discoveries  have 
been  made  by  a  right  use  of  reason.  When  men 
are  once  satisfied  to  take  things  as  they  find  them ; 
when  they  believe  Nature  upon  her  bare  declaration, 
without  suspecting  her  of  any  design  to  impose 
upon  them  ;  when  their  utmost  ambition  is  to  be 
her  servants  and  interpreters  ;  then,  and  not  till 
then,  will  philosophy  prosper.  But  of  those  who 
have  applied  themselves  to  the  science  of  human 
nature,  it  may  truly  be  said,  (of  many  of  them  at 
least),  that  too  much  reasoning  hath  made  them 
mad.  Nature  speaks  to  us  by  our  external,  as  well 
as  by  our  internal,  senses  ;  it  is  strange  that  we 
should  believe  her  in  the  one  case,  and  not  in  the 
other ;  it  is  most  strange,  that  supposing  her 
fallacious,  we  should  think  ourselves  capable  of 
detecting  the  cheat.  Common  sense  tells  me,  that 
the  ground  on  which  I  stand  is  hard,  material,  and 
I  Ibid.:  pp.  31-35- 


BE  ATT  IE  225 

solid,  and  has  a  real,  separate,  independent 
existence.  Berkeley  and  Hume  tell  me,  that  I  am 
imposed  upon  in  this  matter  ;  for  that  the  ground 
under  my  feet  is  really  an  idea  in  my  mind ;  that 
its  very  essence  consists  in  being  perceived ;  and 
that  the  same  instant  it  ceases  to  be  perceived,  it 
must  also  cease  to  exist ;  in  a  word,  that  to  he,  and 
to  he  perceived,  when  predicated  of  the  ground,  the 
sun,  the  starry  heavens,  or  any  corporeal  object, 
signify  precisely  the  same  thing.  Now,  if  my 
common  sense  be  mistaken,  who  shall  ascertain 
and  correct  the  mistake  ?  Our  reason,  it  is  said. 
Are  then  the  inferences  of  reason  in  this  instance 
clearer,  and  more  decisive,  than  the  dictates  of 
common  sense  ?  By  no  means  :  I  still  trust  to  my 
common  sense  as  before  ;  and  I  feel  that  I  must  do 
so.  But  supposing  the  inferences  of  the  one  faculty 
as  clear  and  decisive  as  the  dictates  of  the  other  ; 
yet  who  will  assure  me,  that  my  reason  is  less  liable 
to  mistake  than  my  common  sense  ?  And  if  reason 
be  mistaken,  what  shall  we  say  ?  Is  this  mistake 
to  be  rectified  by  a  second  reasoning,  as  liable  to 
mistake  as  the  first  ? — In  a  word,  we  must  deny 
the  distinction  between  truth  and  falsehood,  adopt 
universal  scepticism,  and  wander  without  end  from 
one  maze  of  uncertainty  to  another  ;  a  state  of 
mind  so  miserable,  that  Milton  makes  it  one  of  the 
torments  of  the  damned ; — or  else  we  must  suppose, 
that  one  of  these  faculties  is  of  higher  authority 

15 


226     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON   SENSE 

than  the  other  ;  and  that  either  reason  ought  to 
submit  to  common  sense,  or  common  sense  to 
reason,  whenever  a  variance  happens  between 
them : — in  other  words,  that  no  doctrine  ought  to 
be  admitted  as  true  that  exceeds  behef,  and 
contradicts   a  first   principle. 

It  has  been  said,  that  every  enquiry  in  philosophy 
ought  to  begin  with  doubt ; — that  nothing  is  to  be 
taken  for  granted,  and  nothing  believed,  without 
proof.  If  this  be  admitted,  it  must  also  be  admitted, 
that  reason  is  the  ultimate  judge  of  truth,  to  which 
common  sense  must  continually  act  in  subordina- 
tion. But  this  I  cannot  admit ;  because  I  am  able 
to  prove  the  contrary  by  incontestable  evidence. 
I  am  able  to  prove,  that  "  except  we  beheve  many 
things  without  proof,  we  never  can  believe  any 
thing  at  all ;  for  that  all  sound  reasoning  must 
ultimately  rest  on  the  principles  of  common  sense  ; 
that  is,  on  principles  intuitively  certain  or  in- 
tuitively probable  ;  and  consequently,  that  common 
sense  is  the  ultimate  judge  of  truth,  to  which  reason 
must  continually  act  in  subordination." — This  I 
mean  to  prove  by  a  fair  induction  of  particulars.^ 
1  Ibid.,  pp.  38-40. 


DUGALD    STEWART 


DUGALD    STEWART 

I.— OF  THE  OBJECT  OF  PHILOSOPHY,  AND 
THE  METHOD  OF  PROSECUTING 
PHILOSOPHICAL  INQUIRIES 

I.  All  the  different  kinds  of  philosophical  inquiry, 
and  all  that  practical  knowledge  which  guides  our 
conduct  in  life,  presuppose  such  an  established 
order  in  the  succession  of  events,  as  enables  us  to 
form  conjectures  concerning  the  future,  from  the 
observation  of  the  past. 

2.  In  the  phenomena  of  the  material  world,  and 
in  many  of  the  phenomena  of  mind,  more  especially 
in  those  which  depend  on  the  instincts  of  the  brutes, 
we  expect,  with  the  most  perfect  confidence, 
that  in  the  same  combinations  of  circumstances 
the  same  results  will  take  place  ;  and  it  is  owing  to 
this  expectation  (justified  by  the  experience  of  all 
ages)  that  the  instincts  of  the  brutes,  as  well  as 
the  laws  of  matter,  become  a  source  of  power  to 
man.  In  both  cases,  the  established  order  of  nature 
affords  abundant  evidence  that  it  was  chiefly  with  a 
view  to  our  accommodation  and  happiness  that  the 
arrangements  of  this  world  were  made.     The  laws 

229 


230     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

which  regulate  the  course  of  human  affairs,  are 
investigated  with  much  greater  difficulty :  but, 
even  in  this  class  of  events,  such  a  degree  of  order 
may  frequently  be  traced,  as  furnishes  general  rules 
of  great  practical  utility  ;  and  this  order  becomes 
the  more  apparent,  in  proportion  as  we  generalize 
our  observations. 

3.  Our  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  nature  is  entirely 
the  result  of  observation  and  experiment ;  for  there 
is  no  instance  in  which  we  perceive  such  a  neces- 
sary connexion  between  two  successive  events,  as 
might  enable  us  to  infer  the  one  from  the  other  by 
reasoning  a  priori.  We  find,  from  experience, 
that  certain  events  are  invariably  conjoined,  so  that 
when  we  see  the  one,  we  expect  the  other  ;  but  our 
knowledge  in  such  cases  extends  no  farther  than 
the  fact. 

4.  To  ascertain  those  established  conjunctions 
of  successive  events,  which  constitute  the  order  of 
the  universe ; — to  record  the  phenomena  which  it 
exhibits  to  our  observation,  and  to  refer  them  to 
their  general  laws,  is  the  great  business  of  philo- 
sophy. Lord  Bacon  was  the  first  person  who  was 
fully  aware  of  the  importance  of  this  fundamental 
truth.  The  ancients  considered  philosophy  as  the 
science  of  causes  ;  and  hence  were  led  to  many 
speculations,  to  which  the  human  faculties  are 
altogether  incompetent. 

5.  The  ultimate  object  of  philosophical  inquiry 


STEWART  231 

is  the  same  which  every  man  of  plain  understanding 
proposes  to  himself,  when  he  remarks  the  events 
which  fall  under  his  observation,  with  a  view  to  the 
future  regulation  of  his  conduct.  The  more  know- 
ledge of  this  kind  we  acquire,  the  better  can  we 
accommodate  our  plans  to  the  established  order  of 
things,  and  avail  ourselves  of  natural  Powers  and 
Agents  for  accomplishing  our  purposes. 

6.  The  knowledge  of  the  Philosopher  differs  from 
that  sagacity  which  directs  uneducated  men  in 
the  business  of  life,  not  in  kind,  but  in  degree,  and 
in  the  manner  in  which  it  is  acquired.  1st,  By 
artificial  combinations  of  circumstances,  or,  in 
other  words,  by  experiments,  he  discovers  many 
natural  conjunctions  which  would  not  have  occurred 
spontaneously  to  his  observation.  2dly,  By 
investigating  the  general  Laws  of  Nature,  and  by 
reasoning  from  them  synthetically,  he  can  often 
trace  an  established  order,  where  a  mere  observer 
of  facts  would  perceive  nothing  but  irregularity. 
This  last  process  of  the  mind  is  more  peculiarly 
dignified  with  the  name  of  Philosophy  ;  and  the 
object  of  the  rules  of  philosophizing  is  to  explain 
in  what  manner  it  ought  to  be  conducted. 

7.  The  knowledge  which  is  acquired  of  the  course 
of  Nature  by  mere  observation,  is  extremely  limited, 
and  extends  only  to  cases  in  which  the  uniformity 
of  the  observed  phenomena  is  apparent  to  our 
senses.     This    happens,    either    when    one.  single 


232     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

law  of  nature  operates  separately,  or  when  different 
laws  are  always  combined  together  in  the  same 
manner.  In  most  instances,  however,  when  differ- 
ent laws  are  combined,  the  result  varies  in  every 
particular  case,  according  to  the  different  circum- 
stances of  the  combination ;  and  it  is  only  by 
knowing  what  the  laws  are  which  are  concerned  in 
any  expected  phenomenon,  and  by  considering  in 
what  manner  they  modify  each  other's  effects,  that 
the  result  can  be  predicted. 

8.  Hence  it  follows,  that  the  first  step  in  the 
study  of  Philosophy  is  to  ascertain  the  simple  and 
general  laws  on  which  the  complicated  phenomena 
of  the  universe  depend.  Having  obtained  these 
laws,  we  may  proceed  safely  to  reason  concerning 
the  effect  resulting  from  any  given  combination 
of  them.  In  the  former  instance,  we  are  said  to 
carry  on  our  inquiries  in  the  way  of  Analysis  ;  in 
the  latter  in  that  of  Synthesis. — [Scala  Ascensoria 
et  Descensoria. — Bacon.] 

9.  To  this  method  of  philosophizing,  (which  is 
commonly  distinguished  by  the  title  of  the  Method 
of  Induction),  we  are  indebted  for  the  rapid  progress 
which  physical  knowledge  has  made  since  the  time 
of  Lord  Bacon.  The  publication  of  his  writings 
fixes  one  of  the  most  important  eras  in  the  history 
of  science.  Not  that  the  reformation  which  has 
since  taken  place  in  the  plan  of  philosophical 
inquiry  is   to  be  ascribed  entirely  to  him ;     for 


STEWART  233 

although  he  did  more  to  forward  it  than  any  other 
individual,  yet  his  genius  and  writings  seem  to  have 
been  powerfully  influenced  by  the  circumstances 
and  character  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived  ;  and 
there  can  be  little  doubt  that  he  only  accelerated 
an  event  which  was  already  prepared  by  many 
concurrent  causes.^ 

II.— OF  THE  ASSOCIATION   OF  IDEAS 

The  effect  of  custom  in  connecting  together 
different  thoughts,  in  such  a  manner  that  the  one 
seems  spontaneously  to  follow  the  other,  is  one  of 
the  most  obvious  facts  with  respect  to  the  opera- 
tions of  the  mind.  To  this  law  of  our  constitution, 
modern  philosophers  have  given  the  name  of  the 
Association  of  Ideas.  Of  late,  the  phrase  has  been 
used  in  a  more  extensive  sense,  to  denote  the  tend- 
ency which  our  thoughts  have  to  succeed  each 
other  in  a  regular  train ;  whether  the  connexion 
between  them  be  established  by  custom,  or  arise 
from  some  other  associating  principle. 

What  the  different  circumstances  are  which 
regulate  the  succession  of  our  thoughts,  it  is  not 
possible,  perhaps,  to  enumerate  completely.  The 
following  are  some  of  the  most  remarkable  :  Re- 
semblance, Analogy,  Contrariety,  Vicinity  in  Place, 
Vicinity  in  Time,  Relation  of  Cause  and  Effect, 
Relation  of  Means  and  End,  Relation  of  Premises 

1  "  Outlines  of  Moral  Philosophy,"  Works,  vol.  ii,  pp.  $-S. 


234     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON   SENSE 

and  Conclusion.  Whether  some  of  these  may  not 
be  resolvable  into  others,  is  not  very  material  to 
inquire.  The  most  powerful  of  all  the  associating 
principles  is  undoubtedly  Custom  ;  and  it  is  that 
which  leads  to  the  most  important  inquiries  of  a 
practical  nature. 

Among  the  associating  principles  already  enumer- 
ated, there  is  an  important  distinction.  The 
relations  on  which  some  of  them  are  founded  are 
obvious  ;  and  connect  our  thoughts  together,  when 
the  attention  is  not  directed  particularly  to  any 
subject.  Other  relations  are  discovered  only  in 
consequence  of  efforts  of  meditation  or  study.  Of 
the  former  kind  are  the  relations  of  Resemblance 
and  Analogy,  of  Contrariety,  of  Vicinity  in  Time  and 
Place  ;  of  the  latter,  the  Relations  of  Cause  and 
Effect,  of  Means  and  End,  of  Premises  and  Con- 
clusion. It  is  owing  to  this  distinction  that 
transitions,  which  would  be  highly  offensive  in 
philosophical  writing,  are  the  most  pleasing  of 
any  in  poetry. 

In  so  far  as  the  train  of  our  thoughts  is  regulated 
by  the  laws  of  Association,  it  depends  on  causes 
of  the  nature  of  which  we  are  ignorant,  and  over 
which  we  have  no  direct  or  immediate  control.  At 
the  same  time  it  is  evident,  that  the  will  has  some 
influence  over  this  part  of  our  constitution.  To 
ascertain  the  extent  and  the  limits  of  this  influence, 
is  a  problem  of  equal  curiosity  and  importance. 


STEWART  235 

We  have  not  a  power  of  summoning  up  any 
particular  thought,  till  that  thought  first  solicit 
our  notice.  Among  a  crowd,  however,  which 
present  themselves,  we  can  choose  and  reject.  We 
can  detail  a  particular  thought,  and  thus  check 
the  train  that  would  otherwise  have  taken  place. 

The  indirect  influence  of  the  will  over  the  train 
of  our  thoughts  is  very  extensive.  It  is  exerted 
chiefly  in  two  ways  : — i.  By  an  effort  of  attention,  we 
can  check  the  spontaneous  course  of  our  ideas,  and 
give  efficacy  to  those  associating  principles  which 
prevail  in  a  studious  and  collected  mind.  2.  By 
practice,  we  can  strengthen  a  particular  associating 
principle  to  so  great  a  degree,  as  to  acquire  a 
command  over  a  particular  class  of  our  ideas. 

The  effect  of  habit,  in  subjecting  to  the  will  those 
intellectual  processes,  which  are  the  foundation  of 
wit, — of  the  mechanical  part  of  poetry,  (or,  in  other 
words,  of  the  powers  of  versification  and  rhyming), — 
of  poetical  fancy, — of  invention  in  the  arts  and 
sciences  ;  and,  above  all,  its  effect  in  forming  a 
talent  for  extempore  elocution,  furnish  striking 
illustrations  of  this  last  remark. 

Of  all  the  different  parts  of  our  constitution, 
there  is  none  more  interesting  to  the  student  of 
Moral  Philosophy  than  the  laws  which  regulate 
the  Association  of  Ideas.  From  the  intimate  and 
almost  indissoluble  combinations  which  we  are  thus 
led  to  form  in  infancy  and  in  early  youth,  may  be 


236     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON   SENSE 

traced  many  of  our  speculative  errors  ;  many  of 
our  most  powerful  principles  of  action ;  many 
perversions  of  our  moral  judgment ;  and  many  of 
those  prejudices  which  mislead  us  in  the  conduct 
of  life.  By  means  of  a  judicious  education,  this 
susceptibility  of  the  infant  mind  might  be  rendered 
subservient  not  only  to  moral  improvement,  but  to 
the  enlargement  and  multiplication  of  our  capacities 
of  enjoyment.  1 

III.— OF  THE  POWER  WHICH  THE  MIND  HAS 
OVER  THE  TRAIN  OF  ITS  THOUGHTS 

By  means  of  the  Association  of  Ideas,  a  constant 
current  of  thoughts,  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  is 
made  to  pass  through  the  mind  while  we  are  awake. 
Sometimes  the  current  is  interrupted,  and  the 
thoughts  diverted  into  a  new  channel,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  ideas  suggested  by  other  men,  or  of 
the  objects  of  perception  with  which  we  are  sur- 
rounded. So  completely,  however,  is  the  mind 
in  this  particular  subjected  to  physical  laws,  that 
it  has  been  justly  observed,*  we  cannot  by  an 
effort  of  our  will  call  up  any  one  thought,  and 
that  the  train  of  our  ideas  depends  on  causes  which 
operate  in  a  manner  inexplicable  by  us. 

This  observation,  although  it  has  been  censured 
as  paradoxical,  is  almost  self-evident;  for,  to  call 
up  a  particular  thought  supposes  it  to  be  already 
1  Ibid.,  pp.  23-25.  2  By  xx>rd  Kames  and  others. 


STEWART  237 

in  the  mind.  As  I  shall  have  frequent  occasion, 
however,  to  refer  to  the  observation  afterwards,  I 
shall  endeavour  to  obviate  the  only  objection  which 
I  think  can  reasonably  be  urged  against  it,  and 
which  is  founded  on  that  operation  of  the  mind 
which  is  commonly  called  recollection  or  intentional 
memory. 

It  is  evident,  that  before  we  attempt  to  recollect 
the  particular  circumstances  of  any  event,  that 
event  in  general  must  have  been  an  object  of  our 
attention.  We  remember  the  outlines  of  the  story, 
but  cannot  at  first  give  a  complete  account  of  it. 
If  we  wish  to  recall  these  circumstances,  there 
are  only  two  ways  in  which  we  can  proceed.  We 
must  either  form  different  suppositions,  and  then 
consider  which  of  these  tallies  best  with  the  other 
circumstances  of  the  event ;  or,  by  revolving  in 
our  mind  the  circumstances  we  remember,  we  must 
endeavour  to  excite  the  recollection  of  the  other 
circumstances  associated  with  them.  The  first  of 
these  processes  is,  properly  speaking,  an  inference 
of  reason,  and  plainly  furnishes  no  exception  to 
the  doctrine  already  delivered.  We  have  an 
instance  of  the  other  mode  of  recollection,  when  we 
are  at  a  loss  for  the  beginning  of  a  sentence  in 
reciting  a  composition  that  we  do  not  perfectly 
remember,  in  which  case  we  naturally  repeat  over, 
two  or  three  times,  the  concluding  words  of  the 
preceding  sentence,  in  order  to  call  up  the  other 


238     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

words  which  used  to  be  connected  with  them  in 
the  memory.  In  this  instance,  it  is  evident  that 
the  circumstances  we  desire  to  remember  are  not 
recalled  to  the  mind  in  immediate  consequence  of 
an  exertion  of  volition,  but  are  suggested  by  some 
other  circumstances  with  which  they  are  connected, 
independently  of  our  will,  by  the  laws  of  our 
constitution. 

Notwithstanding,  however,  the  immediate  de- 
pendence of  the  train  of  our  thoughts  on  the  laws 
of  association,  it  must  not  be  imagined  that  the 
will  possesses  no  influence  over  it.  This  influence, 
indeed,  is  not  exercised  directly  and  immediately, 
as  we  are  apt  to  suppose  on  a  superficial  view  of  the 
subject ;  but  it  is,  nevertheless,  very  extensive  in 
its  effects,  and  the  different  degrees  in  which  it  is 
possessed  by  different  individuals,  constitute  some 
of  the  most  striking  inequalities  among  men,  in 
point  of  intellectual  capacity. 

Of  the  powers  which  the  mind  possesses  over  the 
train  of  its  thoughts,  the  most  obvious  is  its  power 
of  singling  out  any  one  of  them  at  pleasure,  of 
detaining  it,  and  of  making  it  a  particular  object 
of  attention.  By  doing  so,  we  not  only  stop  the 
succession  that  would  otherwise  take  place,  but  in 
consequence  of  our  bringing  to  view  the  less  obvious 
relations  among  our  ideas,  we  frequently  divert  the 
current  of  our  thoughts  into  a  new  channel.  If,  for 
example,   when   I   am  indolent  and  inactive,   the 


•  STEWART  239 

name  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton  accidentally  occur  to  me, 
it  will  perhaps  suggest  one  after  another  the  names 
of  some  other  eminent  mathematicians  and  astrono- 
mers, or  of  some  of  his  illustrious  contemporaries 
and  friends,  and  a  number  of  them  may  pass  in 
review  before  me,  without  engaging  my  curiosity 
in  any  considerable  degree.  In  a  different  state  of 
mind,  the  name  of  Newton  will  lead  my  thoughts 
to  the  principal  incidents  of  his  life,  and  the  more 
striking  features  of  his  character  ;  or,  if  my  mind 
be  ardent  and  vigorous,  will  lead  my  attention  to 
the  sublime  discoveries  he  made,  and  gradually 
engage  me  in  some  philosophical  investigation. 
To  every  object,  there  are  others  which  bear 
obvious  and  striking  relations  ;  and  others,  also, 
whose  relation  to  it  does  not  readily  occur  to  us, 
unless  we  dwell  upon  it  for  some  time,  and  place  it 
before  us  in  different  points  of  view. 

But  the  principal  power  we  possess  over  the  train 
of  our  ideas,  is  founded  on  the  influence  which  our 
habits  of  thinking  have  on  the  laws  of  Association  ; 
an  influence  which  is  so  great,  that  we  may  often 
form  a  pretty  shrewd  judgment  concerning  a 
man's  prevailing  turn  of  thought,  from  the  transi- 
tions he  makes  in  conversation  or  in  writing.  It 
is  well  known,  too,  that  by  means  of  habit,  a  parti- 
cular associating  principle  may  be  strengthened 
to  such  a  degree,  as  to  give  us  a  command  of  all 
the  different  ideas  in  our  mind  which  have  a  certain 


240    PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

relation  to  each  other,  so  that  when  any  one  of  the 
class  occurs  to  us,  we  have  almost  a  certainty  that 
it  will  suggest  the  rest.  What  confidence  in  his 
own  powers  must  a  speaker  possess,  when  he  rises 
without  premeditation  in  a  popular  assembly,  to 
amuse  his  audience  with  a  lively  or  a  humorous 
speech  !  Such  a  confidence,  it  is  evident,  can  only 
arise  from  a  long  experience  of  the  strength  of 
particular  associating  principles. 

To  how  great  a  degree  this  part  of  our  constitution 
may  be  influenced  by  habit,  appears  from  facts  which 
are  familiar  to  every  one.  A  man  who  has  an  am- 
bition to  become  a  punster,  seldom  or  never  fails 
in  the  attainment  of  his  object ;  that  is,  he  seldom 
or  never  fails  in  acquiring  a  power  which  other  men 
have  not,  of  summoning  up  on  a  particular  occasion 
a  number  of  words  different  from  each  other  in 
meaning,  and  resembling  each  other  more  or  less 
in  sound.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  even  genuine 
wit  is  a  habit  acquired  in  a  similar  way ;  and 
that,  although  some  individuals  may  from  natural 
constitution  be  more  fitted  than  others  to  acquire 
this  habit,  it  is  founded  in  every  case  on  a  peculiarly 
strong  association  among  certain  classes  of  our  ideas, 
which  gives  the  person  who  possesses  it  a  command 
over  those  ideas  which  is  denied  to  ordinary  men. 
But  there  is  no  instance  in  which  the  effect  of 
habits  of  association  is  more  remarkable  than  in 
those  men  who  possess  a  facility  of  rhyming.     That 


STEWART  241 

a  man  should  be  able  to  express  his  thoughts 
perspicuously  and  elegantly,  under  the  restraints 
which  rhyme  imposes,  would  appear  to  be  incredible 
if  we  did  not  know  it  to  be  fact.  Such  a  power 
implies  a  wonderful  command  both  of  ideas  and  of 
expression,  and  yet  daily  experience  shews  that 
it  may  be  gained  with  very  little  practice.  Pope 
tells  us  with  respect  to  himself,  that  he  could  express 
himself  not  only  more  concisely  but  more  easily  in 
rhyme  than  in  prose. 

Nor  is  it  only  in  these  trifling  accomplishments 
that  we  may  trace  the  influence  of  habits  of  associa- 
tion. In  every  instance  of  invention,  either  in  the 
fine  arts,  in  the  mechanical  arts,  or  in  the  sciences, 
there  is  some  new  idea,  or  some  new  combination 
of  ideas,  brought  to  light  by  the  inventor.  This, 
undoubtedly,  may  often  happen  in  a  way  which  he 
is  unable  to  explain  ;  that  is,  his  invention  may  be 
suggested  to  him  by  some  lucky  thought,  the  origin 
of  which  he  is  unable  to  trace.  But  when  a  man 
possesses  a  habitual  fertility  of  invention  in  any 
particular  art  or  science,  and  can  rely,  with  con- 
fidence, on  his  inventive  powers,  whenever  he  is 
called  upon  to  exert  them,  he  must  have  acquired, 
by  previous  habits  of  study,  a  command  over  certain 
classes  of  his  ideas,  which  enables  him  at  pleasure 
to  bring  them  under  his  review.  ^ 

1  "  Elements  of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,"  Works, 
vol.  ii.  pp.  266-269- 

16 


242     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

IV.— OF  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  ASSOCIATION 
ON  OUR  ACTIVE  PRINCIPLES,  AND  ON 
OUR  MORAL  JUDGMENTS 

In  order  to  illustrate  a  little  farther  the  influence 
of  the  Association  of  Ideas  on  the  human  mind,  I 
shall  add  a  few  remarks  on  some  of  its  effects  on 
our  active  and  moral  principles.  In  stating  these 
remarks,  I  shall  endeavour  to  avoid,  as  much  as 
possible,  every  occasion  of  controversy,  by  con- 
fining myself  to  such  general  views  of  the  subject, 
as  do  not  presuppose  any  particular  enumeration 
of  our  original  principles  of  action,  or  any  par- 
ticular system  concerning  the  nature  of  the  moral 
faculty.  If  my  health  and  leisure  enable  me  to 
carry  my  plans  into  execution,  I  propose,  in  the 
sequel  of  this  work,  to  resume  these  inquiries,  and 
to  examine  the  various  opinions  to  which  they  have 
given  rise. 

The  manner  in  which  the  association  of  ideas 
operates  in  producing  new  principles  of  action, 
has  been  explained  very  distinctly  by  different 
writers.  Whatever  conduces  to  the  gratification 
of  any  natural  appetite,  or  of  any  natural  desire,  is 
itself  desired  on  account  of  the  end  to  which  it  is 
subservient ;  and  by  being  thus  habitually  associ- 
ated in  our  apprehension  with  agreeable  objects,  it 
frequently  comes,  in  process  of  time,  to  be  regarded 
as  valuable  in  itself,  independently  of  its  utility. 


STEWART  243 

It  is  thus  that  wealth  becomes,  with  many,  an 
ultimate  object  of  pursuit ;  although,  at  first,  it  is 
undoubtedly  valued  merely  on  account  of  its 
subserviency  to  the  attainment  of  other  objects. 
In  like  manner,  men  are  led  to  desire  dress,  equipage, 
retinue,  furniture,  on  account  of  the  estimation 
in  which  they  are  supposed  to  be  held  by  the 
public.  Such  desires  are  called  by  Dr  Hutcheson  ^ 
secondary  desires,  and  their  origin  is  explained  by 
him  in  the  way  which  I  have  mentioned.  "  Since 
we  are  capable,"  says  he,  "  of  reflection,  memory, 
observation,  and  reasoning,  about  the  distant 
tendencies  of  objects  and  actions,  and  not  confined 
to  things  present,  there  must  arise,  in  consequence 
of  our  original  desires,  secondary  desires  of  every- 
thing imagined  useful  to  gratify  any  of  the  primary 
desires ;  and  that  with  strength  proportioned  to 
the  several  original  desires,  and  imagined  usefulness 
or  necessity  of  the  advantageous  object."  "  Thus," 
he  continues,  '*  as  soon  as  we  come  to  apprehend 
the  use  of  wealth  or  power  to  gratify  any  of  our 
original  desires,  we  must  also  desire  them;  and 
hence  arises  the  universality  of  these  desires  of 
wealth  and  power,  since  they  are  the  means  of 
gratifying  all  other  desires."  The  only  thing  that 
appears  to  me  exceptionable  in  the  foregoing 
passage  is,  that  the  author  classes  the  desire  of 
power  with  that  of  wealth ;    wherccis  I  apprehend 

^  See  his  Essay  on  the  Nature  and  Conduct  of  the  Passions. 


244     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

it  to  be  clear  (for  reasons  which  I  shall  state  in 
another  part  of  this  work)  that  the  former  is  a 
primary  desire,  and  the  latter  a  secondary  one. 

Our  moral  judgments,  too,  may  be  modified,  and 
even  perverted  to  a  certain  degree,  in  consequence 
of  the  operation  of  the  same  principle.  In  the 
same  manner  in  which  a  person  who  is  regarded 
as  a  model  of  taste  may  introduce,  by  his  example, 
an  absurd  or  fantastical  dress  ;  so  a  man  of  splendid 
virtues  may  attract  some  esteem  also  to  his  im- 
perfections ;  and,  if  placed  in  a  conspicuous 
situation,  may  render  his  vices  and  follies  objects  of 
general  imitation  among  the  multitude. 

"  In  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,"  says  Mr  Smith, ^ 
**  a  degree  of  licentiousness  was  deemed  the  char- 
acteristic of  a  liberal  education.  It  was  connected, 
according  to  the  notions  of  those  times,  with 
generosity,  sincerity,  magnanimity,  loyalty  ;  and 
proved  that  the  person  who  acted  in  this  manner 
was  a  gentleman,  and  not  a  puritan.  Severity  of 
manners  and  regularity  of  conduct,  on  the  other 
hand,  were  altogether  unfashionable,  and  were 
connected,  in  the  imagination  of  that  age,  with 
cant,  cunning,  hypocrisy,  and  low  manners.  To 
superficial  minds,  the  vices  of  the  great  seem  at  all 
times  agreeable.  They  connect  them  not  only  with 
the  splendour  of  fortune,  but  with  many  superior 
virtues  which  they  ascribe  to  their  superiors  ;   with 

1  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments. 


STEWART  245 

the  spirit  of  freedom  and  independency ;  with 
frankness,  generosity,  humanity,  and  poHteness. 
The  virtues  of  the  inferior  ranks  of  people,  on  the 
contrary, — their  parsimonious  frugahty,  their  pain- 
ful industry,  and  rigid  adherence  to  rules,  seem  to 
them  mean  and  disagreeable.  They  connect  them 
both  with  the  meanness  of  the  station  to  which 
these  qualities  commonly  belong,  and  with  many 
great  vices  which  they  suppose  usually  accompany 
them,  such  as  an  abject,  cowardly,  ill-natured, 
lying,  pilfering  disposition." 

The  theory  which,  in  the  foregoing  passages 
from  Hutcheson  and  Smith,  is  employed  so  justly 
and  philosophically  to  explain  the  origin  of  our 
secondary  desires,  and  to  account  for  some  per- 
versions of  our  moral  judgments,  has  been  thought 
sufficient,  by  some  later  writers,  to  account  for  the 
origin  of  all  our  active  principles  without  exception. 
The  first  of  these  attempts  to  extend  so  very  far 
the  application  of  the  doctrine  of  Association,  was 
made  by  the  Rev.  Mr  Gay,  in  a  Dissertation  con- 
cerning the  Fundamental  Principle  of  Virtue,  which 
is  prefixed  by  Dr  Law  to  his  translation  of  Arch- 
bishop King's  Essay  on  the  Origin  of  Evil.  In  this 
dissertation,  the  author  endeavours  to  shew,  *'  that 
our  approbation  of  morality,  and  all  affections 
whatsoever,  are  finally  resolvable  into  reason, 
pointing  out  private  happiness,  and  are  conversant 
only  about  things  apprehended  to  be  means  tending 


246     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

to  this  end  ;  and  that  wherever  this  end  is  not 
perceived,  they  are  to  be  accounted  for  from  the 
association  of  ideas,  and  may  properly  be  called 
habits."  The  same  principles  have  been  since 
pushed  to  a  much  greater  length  by  Dr  Hartley, 
whose  system  (as  he  himself  informs  us)  took  rise 
from  his  accidentally  hearing  it  mentioned  as  an 
opinion  of  Mr  Gay,  "  that  the  association  of  ideas 
was  sufficient  to  account  for  all  our  intellectual 
pleasures  and  pains."  ^ 

It  must,  I  think,  in  justice  be  acknowledged, 
that  this  theory  concerning  the  origin  of  our 
affections,  and  of  the  moral  sense,  is  a  most  in- 
genious refinement  upon  the  selfish  system,  as  it 
was  formerly  taught ;  and  that,  by  means  of  it, 
the  force  of  'many  of  the  common  reasonings 
against  that  system  is  eluded.  Among  these 
reasonings,  particular  stress  has  always  been  laid 
on  the  instantaneousness  with  which  our  affections 
operate,  and  the  moral  sense  approves  or  condemns  ; 
and  on  our  total  want  of  consciousness,  in  such 
cases,  of  any  reference  to  our  own  happiness.  The 
modern  advocates  for  the  selfish  system  admit  the 
fact  to  be  as  it  is  stated  by  their  opponents,  and 

1  Mr  Hume,  too,  who  in  my  opinion  has  carried  this  principle 
of  the  Association  of  Ideas  a  great  deal  too  far,  had  compared 
the  universality  of  its  applications  in  the  philosophy  of  mind,  to 
that  of  the  principle  of  attraction  in  physics.  "  Here,"  says  he, 
"  is  a  kind  of  attraction,  which  in  the  mental  world  will  be  found 
to  have  as  extraordinary  effects  as  in  the  natural,  and  to  shew 
itself  in  as  many  and  as  various  forms." — Treatise  of  Human 
Nature,  vol.  i.  p.  30. 


STEWART  247 

grant  that,  after  the  moral  sense  and  our  various 
affections  are  formed,  their  exercise,  in  particular 
cases,  may  become  completely  disinterested ;  but 
still  they  contend,  that  it  is  upon  a  regard  to  our 
own  happiness  that  all  these  principles  are  origin- 
ally grafted.  The  analogy  of  avarice  will  serve 
to  illustrate  the  scope  of  this  theory.  It  cannot  be 
doubted  that  this  principle  of  action  is  artificial. 
It  is  on  account  of  the  enjoyments  which  it 
enables  us  to  purchase  that  money  is  originally 
desired ;  and  yet,  in  process  of  time,  by  means  of 
the  agreeable  impressions  which  are  associated 
with  it,  it  comes  to  be  desired  for  its  own  sake, 
and  even  continues  to  be  an  object  of  our  pursuit, 
long  after  we  have  lost  all  relish  for  those  enjoy- 
ments which  it  enables  us  to  command. 

Without  meaning  to  engage  in  any  controversy 
on  the  subject,  I  shall  content  myself  with  observing 
in  general,  that  there  must  be  some  limit  beyond 
which  the  theory  of  association  cannot  possibly 
be  carried  ;  for  the  explanation  which  it  gives  of  the 
formation  of  new  principles  of  action,  proceeds  on 
the  supposition  that  there  are  other  principles 
previously  existing  in  the  mind.  The  great  ques- 
tion then  is,  when  are  we  arrived  at  this  limit ;  or, 
in  other  words,  when  are  we  arrived  at  the  simple 
and  original  laws  of  our  constitution  ? 

In  conducting  this  inquiry  philosophers  have  been 
apt  to  go  into  extremes.   Lord  Kames  and  some  other 


248     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON   SENSE 

authors  have  been  censured,  and  perhaps  justly, 
for  a  disposition  to  multiply  original  principles 
to  an  unnecessary  degree.  It  may  be  questioned 
whether  Dr  Hartley  and  his  followers  have  not 
sometimes  been  misled  by  too  eager  a  desire  of 
abridging  their  number. 

Of  these  two  errors  the  former  is  the  least  common 
and  the  least  dangerous.  It  is  the  least  common, 
because  it  is  not  so  flattering  as  the  other  to  the 
vanity  of  a  theorist ;  and  it  is  the  least  dangerous, 
because  it  has  no  tendency,  like  the  other,  to  give 
rise  to  a  suppression  or  to  a  misrepresentation  of 
facts,  or  to  retard  the  progress  of  the  science  by 
bestowing  upon  it  an  appearance  of  systematical 
perfection,  to  which  in  its  present  state  it  is  not 
entitled. 

Abstracting,  however,  from  these  inconveniences 
which  must  always  result  from  a  precipitate  re- 
ference of  phenomena  to  general  principles,  it 
does  not  seem  to  me  that  the  theory  in  question 
has  any  tendency  to  weaken  the  foundation  of 
morals.  It  has,  indeed,  some  tendency,  in  common 
with  the  philosophy  of  Hobbes  and  of  Mandeville, 
to  degrade  the  dignity  of  human  nature,  but  it 
leads  to  no  sceptical  conclusions  concerning  the 
rule  of  life.  For,  although  we  were  to  grant  that 
all  our  principles  of  action  are  acquired,  so  striking 
a  difference  among  them  must  still  be  admitted,  as 
is  sufficient  to  distinguish  clearly  those  universal 


STEWART  249 

laws  which  were  intended  to  regulate  human  con- 
duct, from  the  local  habits  which  are  formed  by 
education  and  fashion.  It  must  still  be  admitted 
that  while  some  active  principles  are  confined  to 
particular  individuals,  or  to  particular  tribes  of 
men,  there  are  others  which,  arising  from  circum- 
stances in  which  all  the  situations  of  mankind  must 
agree,  are  common  to  the  whole  species.  Such 
active  principles  as  fall  under  this  last  description, 
at  whatever  period  of  life  they  may  appear,  are  to 
be  regarded  as  a  part  of  human  nature  no  less  than 
the  instinct  of  suction  ;  in  the  same  manner  as 
the  acquired  perception  of  distance  by  the  eye,  is  to 
be  ranked  among  the  perceptive  powers  of  man,  no 
less  than  the  original  perceptions  of  any  of  our 
other  senses.^ 

v.— OF  CERTAIN  LAWS  OF  BELIEF,  INSEPAR- 
ABLY CONNECTED  WITH  THE  EXER- 
CISE OF  CONSCIOUSNESS,  MEMORY, 
PERCEPTION,  AND  REASONING 

I.  It  is  by  the  immediate  evidence  of  conscious- 
ness that  we  are  assured  of  the  present  existence  of 
our  various  sensations,  whether  pleasant  or  painful  ; 
of  all  our  affections,  passions,  hopes,  fears,  desires, 
and  volitions.  It  is  thus,  too,  we  are  assured  of  the 
present  existence  of  those  thoughts  which,   during 

^  "  Elements  of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,"  Works, 
vol.  ii.  pp.  334-338. 


250    PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

our  waking  hours,  are  continually  passing  through 
the  mind,  and  of  all  the  different  effects  which  they 
produce  in  furnishing  employment  to  our  intel- 
lectual faculties. 

According  to  the  common  doctrine  of  our  best 
philosophers,  it  is  by  the  evidence  of  consciousness 
we  are  assured  that  we  ourselves  exist.  The 
proposition,  however,  when  thus  stated,  is  not 
accurately  true  ;  for  our  own  existence  (as  I  have 
elsewhere  observed)  is  not  a  direct  or  immediate 
object  of  consciousness,  in  the  strict  and  logical 
meaning  of  that  term.  We  are  conscious  of 
sensation,  thought,  desire,  volition  ;  but  we  are  not 
conscious  of  the  existence  of  Mind  itself ;  nor 
would  it  be  possible  for  us  to  arrive  at  the  knowledge 
of  it,  (supposing  us  to  be  created  in  the  full  possession 
of  all  the  intellectual  capacities  which  belong  to 
human  nature),  if  no  impression  were  ever  to  be 
made  on  our  external  senses.  The  moment  that, 
in  consequence  of  such  an  impression,  a  sensation 
is  excited,  we  learn  two  facts  at  once, — the  existence 
of  the  sensation,  and  our  own  existence  as  sentient 
beings  ; — in  other  words,  the  very  first  exercise 
of  consciousness  necessarily  implies  a  belief,  not 
only  of  the  present  existence  of  what  is  felt,  but  of 
the  present  existence  of  that  which  feels  and  thinks  : 
or  (to  employ  plainer  language)  the  present  exist- 
ence of  that  being  which  I  denote  by  the  words  / 
and  myself.     Of  these  facts,  however,  it  is  the  former 


STEWART  251 

alone  of  which  we  can  properly  be  said  to  be  con- 
scious, agreeably  to  the  rigorous  interpretation  of 
the  expression.  A  conviction  of  the  latter,  al- 
though it  seems  to  be  so  inseparable  from  the  exer- 
cise of  consciousness  that  it  can  scarcely  be  con- 
sidered as  posterior  to  it  in  the  order  of  time,  is 
yet  (if  I  may  be  allowed  to  make  use  of  a  scholastic 
distinction)  posterior  to  it  in  the  order  of  nature  ; 
not  only  as  it  supposes  consciousness  to  be  already 
awakened  by  some  sensation,  or  some  other  mental 
affection  ;  but  as  it  is  evidently  rather  a  judgment 
accompanying  the  exercise  of  that  power,  than  one 
of  its  immediate  intimations  concerning  its  appro- 
priate class  of  internal  phenomena.  It  appears 
to  me,  therefore,  more  correct  to  call  the  belief  of 
our  own  existence  a  concomitant  or  accessory  of 
the  exercise  of  consciousness,  than  to  say,  that  our 
existence  is  a  fact  falling  under  the  immediate 
cognizance  of  consciousness,  like  the  existence  of 
the  various  agreeable  or  painful  sensations  which 
external  objects  excite  in  our  minds. 

2.  That  we  cannot,  without  a  very  blameable 
latitude  in  the  use  of  words,  be  said  to  be  conscious 
of  our  personal  identity,  is  a  proposition  still  more 
indisputable  ;  inasmuch  as  the  very  idea  of  personal 
identity  involves  the  idea  of  time,  and  consequently 
presupposes  the  exercise  not  only  of  consciousness, 
but  of  memory.  The  behef  connected  with  this 
idea  is  impHed  in  every  thought  and  every  action 


252     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

of  the  mind,  and  may  be  justly  regarded  as  one  of 
the  simplest  and  most  essential  elements  of  the 
understanding.  Indeed,  it  is  impossible  to  conceive 
either  an  intellectual  or  an  active  being  to  exist 
without  it.  It  is,  however,  extremely  worthy  of 
remark,  with  respect  to  this  belief  that,  universal 
as  it  is  among  our  species,  nobody  but  a  meta- 
physician ever  thinks  of  expressing  it  in  words,  or 
of  reducing  into  the  shape  of  a  proposition  the  truth 
to  which  it  relates.  To  the  rest  of  mankind,  it 
forms  not  an  object  of  knowledge  ;  but  a  condition 
or  supposition,  necessarily  and  unconsciously  in- 
volved in  the  exercise  of  all  their  faculties.  On  a 
part  of  our  constitution,  which  is  obviously  one 
of  the  last  or  primordial  elements  at  which  it  is 
possible  to  arrive  in  analyzing  our  intellectual 
operations,  it  is  plainly  unphilosophical  to  suppose 
that  any  new  light  can  be  thrown  by  metaphysical 
discussion.  All  that  can  be  done  with  propriety, 
in  such  cases,  is  to  state  the  fact. 

And  here,  I  cannot  help  taking  notice  of  the 
absurd  and  inconsistent  attempts  which  some  in- 
genious men  have  made,  to  explain  the  gradual 
process  by  which  they  suppose  the  mind  to  be  led 
to  the  knowledge  of  its  own  existence,  and  of  that 
continued  identity  which  our  constitution  leads  us 
to  ascribe  to  it.  How  (it  has  been  asked)  does  a 
child  come  to  form  the  very  abstract  and  meta- 
physical idea  expressed  by  the  pronoun  /  or  moi  ? 


STEWART  253 

In  answer  to  this  question,  I  have  only  to  observe, 
that  when  we  set  about  the  explanation  of  a  pheno- 
menon, we  must  proceed  on  the  supposition  that 
it  is  possible  to  resolve  it  into  some  more  general 
law  or  laws  with  which  we  are  already  acquainted. 
But,  in  the  case  before  us,  how  can  this  be  expected, 
by  those  who  consider  that  all  our  knowledge  of 
mind  is  derived  from  the  exercise  of  reflection  ;  and 
that  every  act  of  this  power  implies  a  conviction 
of  our  own  existence  as  reflecting  and  intelligent 
beings  ?  Every  theory,  therefore,  which  pretends 
to  account  for  this  conviction,  must  necessarily 
involve  that  sort  of  paralogism  which  logicians  call 
a  petitio  principii  ;  inasmuch  as  it  must  resolve  the 
thing  to  be  explained  into  some  law  or  laws,  the 
evidence  of  which  rests  ultimately  on  the  assump- 
tion in  question.  From  this  assumption, .  which  is 
necessarily  implied  in  the  joint  exercise  of  con- 
sciousness and  memory,  the  philosophy  of  the 
human  mind,  if  we  mean  to  study  it  analytically, 
must  of  necessity  set  out ;  and  the  very  attempt 
to  dig  deeper  for  its  foundation,  betrays  a  total 
ignorance  of  the  logical  rules,  according  to  which 
alone  it  can  ever  be  prosecuted  with  any  hopes  of 
success. 

It  was,  I  believe,  first  marked  by  M.  Frevost  of 
Geneva,  (and  the  remark,  obvious  as  it  may  appear, 
reflects  much  honour  on  his  acuteness  and  sagacity) , 
that  the  inquiries  concerning  the  mind,  founded  on 


254     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

the  hypothesis  of  the  animated  statue — inquiries 
which  both  Bonnet  and  Condillac  professed  to 
carry  on  analytically — were  in  truth  altogether 
synthetical.  To  this  criticism  it  may  be  added, 
that  their  inquiries,  in  so  far  as  they  had  for  their 
object  to  explain  the  origin  of  our  belief  of  our  own 
existence,  and  of  our  personal  identity,  assumed, 
as  the  principles  of  their  synthesis,  facts  at  once 
less  certain  and  less  familiar  than  the  problem 
which  they  were  employed  to  resolve. 

Nor  is  it  to  the  metaphysician  only  that  the 
ideas  of  identity  and  of  personality  are  familiar. 
Where  is  the  individual  who  has  not  experienced 
their  powerful  influence  over  his  imagination,  while 
he  was  employed  in  reflecting  on  the  train  of  events 
which  have  filled  up  the  past  history  of  his  life  ;  and 
on  that  internal  world,  the  phenomena  of  which 
have  been  exposed  to  his  own  inspection  alone  ? 
On  such  an  occasion,  even  the  wonders  of  external 
nature  seem  comparatively  insignificant ;  and  one 
is  tempted,  (with  a  celebrated  French  writer),  in 
contemplating  the  spectacle  of  the  universe,  to 
adopt  the  words  of  the  Doge  of  Genoa,  when  he 
visited  Versailles — "  Ce  qui  m'^tonne  le  plus  ici, 
c'est  de  m'y  voir."  ^ 

3.  The  belief  which  all  men  entertain  of  the 
existence  of  the  material  world,  (I  mean  their  belief 
of  its  existence  independently  of  that  of  percipient 

1  D'Alembert,  Apologie  de  I'^tude. 


STEWART  255 

beings,)  and  their  expectation  of  the  continued 
uniformity  of  the  laws  of  nature,  belong  to  the 
same  class  of  ultimate  or  elemental  laws  of  thought, 
with  those  which  have  been  just  mentioned.  The 
truths  which  form  their  objects  are  of  an  order  so 
radically  different  from  what  are  commonly  called 
truths,  in  the  popular  acceptation  of  that  word, 
that  it  might  perhaps  be  useful  for  logicians  to 
distinguish  them  by  some  appropriate  appellation, 
such,  for  example,  as  that  of  metaphysical  or 
transcendental  truths.  They  are  not  principles  or 
data  (as  will  afterwards  appear)  from  which  any 
consequence  can  be  deduced ;  but  form  a  part  of 
those  original  stamina  of  human  reason,  which  are 
equally  essential  to  all  the  pursuits  of  science,  and 
to  all  the  active  concerns  of  life. 

4.  I  shall  only  take  notice  farther,  under  this 
head,  of  the  confidence  which  we  must  necessarily 
repose  in  the  evidence  of  memory,  (and,  I  may  add, 
in  the  continuance  of  our  personal  identity,)  when 
we  are  employed  in  carrying  on  any  process  of 
deduction  or  argumentation, — in  following  out,  for 
instance,  the  steps  of  a  long  mathematical  demon- 
stration. In  yielding  our  assent  to  the  conclusion 
to  which  such  a  demonstration  leads,  we  evidently 
trust  to  the  fidelity  with  which  our  memory  has 
connected  the  different  links  of  the  chain  together. 
The  reference  which  is  often  made,  in  the  course  of 
a  demonstration,  to  propositions  formerly  proved, 


256    PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

places  the  same  remark  in  a  light  still  stronger ; 
and  shews  plainly  that,  in  this  branch  of  knowledge, 
which  is  justly  considered  as  the  most  certain  of 
any,  the  authority  of  the  same  laws  of  belief  which 
are  recognised  in  the  ordinary  pursuits  of  life  is 
tacitly  acknowledged.  Deny  the  evidence  of 
memory  as  a  ground  of  certain  knowledge,  and  you 
destroy  the  foundations  of  mathematical  science 
as  completely  as  if  you  were  to  deny  the  truth  of 
the  axioms  assumed  by  Euclid. 

The  foregoing  examples  sufficiently  illustrate  the 
nature  of  that  class  of  truths  which  I  have  called 
Fundamental  Laws  of  Human  Belief,  or  Primary 
Elements  of  Human  Reason.  A  variety  of  others, 
not  less  important,  might  be  added  to  the  list ;  * 
but  these  I  shall  not  at  present  stop  to  enumerate, 
as  my  chief  object,  in  introducing  the  subject  here, 
was  to  explain  the  common  relation  in  which  they 
all  stand  to  deductive  evidence.  In  this  point  of 
view,  two  analogies,  or  rather  coincidences,  between 
the  truths  which  we  have  been  last  considering, 
and  the  mathematical  axioms  which  were  treated 
of  formerly,  immediately  present  themselves  to 
our  notice. 

I.  From  neither  of  these  classes  of  truths  can 
any  direct  inference  be  drawn  for  the  farther  en- 
largement   of    our    knowledge.     This    remark    has 

1  Such,  for  example,  as  our  belief  of  the  existence  of  efficient 
causes  ;  our  belief  of  the  existence  of  other  intelligent  beings 
besides  ourselves,  etc.,  etc. 


STEWART  257 

been  already  shewn  to  hold  universally  with  respect 
to  the  axioms  of  geometry,  and  it  applies  equally 
to  what  I  have  called  Fundamental  Laws  of 
Human  Belief.  From  such  propositions  as  these 
— /  exist ;  I  am  the  same  person  to-day  that  I  was 
yesterday ;  the  material  world  has  an  existence 
independent  of  my  mind  ;  the  general  laws  of  nature 
will  continue,  in  future,  to  operate  uniformly  as  in 
time  past — no  inference  can  be  deduced,  any  more 
than  from  the  intuitive  truths  prefixed  to  the 
Elements  of  Euclid.  Abstracted  from  other  data, 
they  are  perfectly  barren  in  themselves  ;  nor  can 
any  possible  combination  of  them  help  the  mind 
forward  one  single  step  in  its  progress.  It  is  for 
this  reason  that,  instead  of  calling  them,  with  some 
other  writers,  first  principles,  I  have  distinguished 
them  by  the  title  of  fundamental  laws  of  belief) 
the  former  word  seeming  to  me  to  denote,  accord- 
ing to  common  usage,  some  fact,  or  some  sup- 
position, from  which  a  series  of  consequences  may 
be  deduced. 

If  the  account  now  given  of  these  laws  of  belief  be 
just,  the  great  argument  which  has  been  commonly 
urged  in  support  of  their  authority,  and  which 
manifestly  confounds  them  with  what  are  properly 
called  principles  of  reasoning,  is  not  at  all  applicable 
to  the  subject ;  or  at  least  does  not  rest  the  point 
in  dispute  upon  its  right  foundation.  If  there 
were  no  first  principles,  (it  has  been  said,)  or  in  other 

17 


258     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON   SENSE 

words,  if  a  reason  could  be  given  for  everything,  no 
process  of  deduction  could  possibly  be  brought 
to  a  conclusion.  The  remark  is  indisputably  true  ; 
but  it  only  proves  (what  no  logician  of  the  present 
times  will  venture  to  deny)  that  the  mathematician 
could  not  demonstrate  a  single  theorem,  unless 
he  were  first  allowed  to  lay  down  his  definitions  ; 
nor  the  natural  philosopher  explain  or  account  for 
a  single  phenomenon,  unless  he  were  allowed  to 
assume,  as  acknowledged  facts,  certain  general  laws 
of  nature.  What  inference  does  this  afford  in 
favour  of  that  particular  class  of  truths  to  which 
the  preceding  observations  relate,  and  against 
which  the  ingenuity  of  modern  sceptics  has  been 
more  particularly  directed  ?  If  I  be  not  deceived, 
these  truths  are  still  more  intimately  connected 
with  the  operations  of  the  reasoning  faculty  than 
has  been  generally  imagined  ;  not  as  the  principles 
(apxai)  from  which  our  reasonings  set  out,  and 
on  which  they  ultimately  depend,  but  as  the 
necessary  conditions  on  which  every  step  of  the 
deduction  tacitly  proceeds  ;  or  rather  (if  I  may  use 
the  expression)  as  essential  elements  which  enter 
into  the  composition  of  reason  itself. 

2.  In  this  last  remark  I  have  anticipated,  in  some 
measure,  what  I  had  to  state  with  respect  to  the 
second  coincidence  alluded  to,  between  mathe- 
matical axioms,  and  the  other  propositions  which 
I  have  comprehended  under  the   general   title   of 


STEWART  259 

fundamental  laws  of  human  belief     As  the  truth  of 
axioms  is  virtually  presupposed  or  implied  in  the 
successive    steps    of    every    demonstration,    so,    in 
every  step  of  our  reasonings  concerning  the  order  of 
Nature,   we  proceed  on  the  supposition,   that  the 
laws  by  which  it  is  regulated  will  continue  uniform 
as  in  time  past ;    and  that  the  material  universe 
has  an  existence  independent  of  our  perceptions. 
I  need  scarcely  add,  that  in  all  our  reasonings  what- 
ever, whether  they  relate  to  necessary  or  to  con- 
.  tingent  truths,  our  own  personal  identity,  and  the 
evidence  of  memory,  are  virtually  taken  for  granted. 
'These  different  truths  all  agree  in  this,  that  they 
are    essentially    involved    in    the    exercise    of    our 
rational   powers ;     although,    in   themselves,    they 
furnish  no  principles  or  data  by  which  the  sphere 
of  our  knowledge  can,  by  any  ingenuity,  be  enlarged. 
They  agree  farther  in  being  tacitly  acknowledged 
by  all  men,  learned  or  ignorant,  without  any  formal 
enunciation    in    words,    or    even    any    conscious 
exercise  of  reflection.     It  is   only  at  that  period 
of  our  intellectual  progress  when  scientific  arrange- 
ments and  metaphysical  refinements  begin  to  be 
introduced,  that  they  become  objects  of  attention 
to  the  mind,  and  assume  the  form  of  propositions. 
In  consequence  of  these  two  analogies  or  coin- 
cidences, I  should  have  been  inclined  to  comprehend, 
under  the  general  title  of  axioms,  all  the  truths 
which  have  been  hitherto  under  our  review,  if  the 


26o    PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON   SENSE 

common  usage  of  our  language  had  not,  in  a  great 
measure,  appropriated  that  appellation  to  the 
axioms  of  mathematics ;  and  if  the  view  of  the  sub- 
ject which  I  have  taken,  did  not  render  it  necessary 
for  me  to  direct  the  attention  of  my  readers  to  the 
wide  diversity  between  the  branches  of  knowledge 
to  which  they  are  respectively  subservient. 

I  was  anxious  also  to  prevent  these  truths  from 
being  all  identified,  in  point  of  logical  importance, 
under  the  same  name.  The  fact  is,  that  the  one 
class  (in  consequence  of  the  relation  in  which  they 
stand  to  the  demonstrative  conclusions  of  geometry) 
are  comparatively  of  so  little  moment,  that  the 
formal  enumeration  of  them  was  a  matter  of 
choice  rather  than  of  necessity  ;  whereas  the  other 
class  have  unfortunately  been  raised,  by  the 
sceptical  controversies  of  modern  times,  to  a  con- 
spicuous rank  in  the  philosophy  of  the  human 
mind.  I  have  thought  it  more  advisable,  therefore, 
to  bestow  on  the  latter  an  appropriate  title  of  their 
own  ;  without,  however,  going  so  far  as  to  reject 
altogether  the  phraseology  of  those  who  have 
annexed  to  the  word  axiom  a  more  enlarged  mean- 
ing than  that  which  I  have  usually  given  to  it. 
Little  inconvenience,  indeed,  can  arise  from  this 
latitude  in  the  use  of  the  term ;  provided  only  it  be 
always  confined  to  those  ultimate  laws  of  belief, 
which,  although  they  form  the  first  elements  of 
human  reason,   cannot  with  propriety  be  ranked 


STEWART  26r 

among  the  principles  from  which  any  of  our  scien- 
tific conchisions  are  deduced. 

Corresponding  to  the  extension  which  some  late 
writers  have  given  to  axioms,  is  that  of  the  province 
which  they  have  assigned  to  intuition ;  a  term 
which  has  been  applied,  by  Dr  Beattie  and  others, 
not  only  to  the  power  by  which  we  perceive  the 
truth  of  the  axioms  of  geometry,  but  to  that  by 
which  we  recognise  the  authority  of  the  fundamental 
laws  of  belief,  when  we  hear  them  enunciated  in 
language.  My  only  objection  to  this  use  of  the  word 
is,  that  it  is  a  departure  from  common  practice  ; 
according  to  which,  if  I  be  not  mistaken,  the  proper 
objects  of  intuition  are  propositions ' analogous  to 
the  axioms  prefixed  to  Euclid's  Elements.  In  some 
other  respects,  this  innovation  might  perhaps  be 
regarded  as  an  improvement  on  the  very  limited 
and  imperfect  vocabulary  of  which  we  are  able 
to  avail  ourselves  in  our  present  discussions.^ 

^  According  to  Locke,  we  have  the  knowledge  of  our  own 
existence  by  intuition  ;  of  the  existence  of  God  by  demonstration  ; 
and  of  other  things  by  sensation. — Book  iv.  chap.  ix.  §  2. 

This  use  of  the  word  intuition  seems  to  be  somewhat  arbitrary. 
The  reaUty  of  our  own  existence  is  a  truth  which  bears  as  little 
analogy  to  the  axioms  of  mathematics,  as  any  other  primary 
truth  whatever.  If  the  province  of  inttiition,  therefore,  be  ex- 
tended as  far  as  it  has  been  carried  by  Locke  in  the  foregoing 
sentence,  it  will  not  be  easy  to  give  a  good  reason  why  it  should 
not  be  enlarged  a  Httle  farther.  The  words  intuition  and  demon- 
stration, it  must  not  be  forgotten,  have  both  of  them  an  etymo- 
logical reference  to  the  sense  of  seeing ;  and  when  we  wish  to 
express,  in  the  strongest  terms,  the  most  complete  evidence 
which  can  be  set  before  the  mind,  we  compare  it  to  the  light  of 
noon-day  ; — in  other  words,  we  compare  it  to  what  Mr  Locke  here 
attempts  to  degrade,  by  calling  it  the  evidence  of  sensation. 


262     PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON  SENSE 

To  the  class  of  truths  which  I  have  here  called 
laws  of  belief,  or  elements  of  reason,  the  title  of 
principles  of  common  sense  was  long  ago  given  by 
Father  Bufher,  whose  language  and  doctrine 
concerning  them  bears  a  very  striking  resemblance 
to  those  of  some  of  our  later  Scottish  logicians. 
This,  at  least,  strikes  me  as  the  meaning  which 
these  writers  in  general  annex  to  the  phrase,  al- 
though all  of  them  have  frequently  employed  it 
with  a  far  greater  degree  of  latitude.  When  thus 
limited  in  its  acceptation,  it  is  obviously  liable,  in 
point  of  scientific  accuracy,  to  two  very  strong 
objections,  both  of  which  have  been  already 
sufficiently  illustrated.  The^  first  is,  that  it  applies 
the  appellation  of  principles  to  laws  of  belief  from 
which  no  inference  can  be  deduced  ;  the  second, 
that  it  refers  the  origin  of  these  laws  to^Conlmon 
Sense.  Nor  is  this  phraseology  more  agreeable  to 
popular  use  than  to  logical  precision.  If  we  were 
to  suppose  an  individual,  whose  conduct  betrayed 
a  disbelief  of  his  own  existence,  or  of  his  own  iden- 
tity, or  of  the  reality  of  surrounding  objects,  it 
would  by  no  means  amount  to  an  adequate  de- 
scription of  his  condition  to  say,  that  he  was  destitute 
of  common  sense.  We  should  at  once  pronounce 
him  to  be  destitute  of  reason,  and  would  no  longer 
consider  him  as  a  fit  subject  of  discipline  or  of 
punishment.  The  former  expression,  indeed,  would 
only  imply  that  he  was  apt  to  fall  into  absurdities 


STEWART  263 

and  improprieties  in  the  common  concerns  of  life. 
To  denominate,  therefore,  such  laws  of  belief  as 
we  have  now  been  considering,  constituent  elements 
of  human  reason,  while  it  seems  quite  unexception- 
able in  point  of  technical  distinctness,  cannot  be 
justly  censured  as  the  slightest  deviation  from  our 
habitual  forms  of  speech.  On  the  same  grounds,  it 
may  be  fairly  questioned,  whether  the  word  reason 
would  not,  on  some  occasions,  be  the  best  substitute 
which  our  language  affords  for  intuition,  in  that 
enlarged  acceptation  which  has  been  given  to  it  of 
late.  If  not  quite  so  definite  and  precise  as  might 
be  wished,  it  would  be  at  least  employed  in  one  of 
those  significations  in  which  it  is  already  familiar 
to  every  ear  ;  whereas  the  meaning  of  intuition, 
when  used  for  the  same  purpose,  is  stretched  very 
far  beyond  its  ordinary  limits.  And  in  cases  of 
this  sort,  where  we  have  to  choose  between  two 
terms,  neither  of  which  is  altogether  unexception- 
able, it  will  be  found  much  safer  to  trust  to  the 
context  for  restricting  in  the  reader's  mind  what  is 
too  general,  than  for  enlarging  what  use  has  accus- 
tomed us  to  interpret  in  a  sense  too  narrow. 

I  must  add,  too,  in  opposition  to  the  high  author- 
ities of  Dr  Johnson  and  Dr  Beattie,  that  for  many 
years  past,  reason  has  been  very  seldom  used  by 
philosophical  writers,  or,  indeed,  by  correct  writers 
of  any  description,  as  synonymous  with  the  power 
of   reasoning.     To    appeal   to    the   light   of  human 


264     PHILOSOPHY   OF  COMMON  SENSE 

reason  from  the  reasonings  of  the  schools,  is  surely 
an  expression  to  which  no  good  objection  can  be 
made,  on  the  score  either  of  vagueness  or  of  novelty. 
Nor  has  the  etymological  affinity  between  these 
two  words  the  slightest  tendency  to  throw  any 
obscurity  on  the  foregoing  expression.  On  the 
contrary,  this  affinity  may  be  of  use  in  some  of 
our  future  arguments,  by  keeping  constantly  in 
view  the  close  and  inseparable  connexion  which 
will  be  afterwards  shown  to  exist  between  the  two 
different  intellectual  operations  which  are  thus 
brought  into  immediate  contrast. ^ 

1  "  Elements  of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind  "  {Works, 
vol.  iii.  pp.  40-51). 


INDEX 


Affections,  161-169. 
Ambition,  210. 
Analysis,  35,  232. 
Anatomy  of  the  mind,  13,  30. 
Appetites,  163-169,  183-185. 
Arbitrary  connections,  99-100. 
Aristotle,  53. 

Association  of  Ideas,  233  sqq. 
Attention,  71,  112,  238. 
Axioms,  95,  96,  121,  152,  158, 
220,  256-261. 

Bacon,  Francis,  76,  230,  232. 
Beattie,  2  n.,  9,  11,  17-19,  23, 
261,  263. 

extracts  from,  217-226. 
Belief,  39  sqq.,  44  sqq.,  166,  189, 
191,  218,  219. 

laws  of,  249  sqq. 
Benevolence,  161  sqq.,  211. 
Bentley,  149. 
Berkeley,  3-10,  15,  16.  20,  51, 

79,  88,  188,  225. 
Blair,  11. 
Bonnet,  254. 
Brown,  Thomas,  20. 
Buf&er,  262. 

Campbell,  George,  2  n.,  20. 
Cause,  6^  sqq.,  76,  100  sqq.,  117. 
Character,  176,  222. 
Choice,  169-171,  213,  235. 
Collier,  Arthur,  188. 
Colour,  85  sqq. 


Common  sense,  6-10,  15,  29, 
36,  37,  41,  45,  48,  50,  55, 
61,  79,  148-153,  166, 
189,  220  sqq.,  262. 

Common  understanding,  96- 
98,  115- 

Conception,  128-132. 

Condillac,  254. 

Conduct,  156,  157,  164,  166, 
168,  171,  174,  182,  184. 

Conscience,  177,  180,  182  sqq. 

Consequences  as  test  of  right 
and  wrong,  170. 

Contingency,  135. 

Contingent  truths,  152-157. 

Cousin,  Victor,  22. 

D'Alembert,  254  n. 
Descartes,  4,  8,  29,  35,  53,  140, 

188. 
Desire,  162,  167,  169,  242. 
Duty,  168,  173,  181,  184. 

Epicurus,  52. 

Error,  156. 

Ether,  loi. 

Euclid,  158,  220,  256,  261. 

Extension,  80  sqq. 

Falsehood,  130  sqq.,  190  sqq. 
Feeling,  189  sqq.,  218. 
Ferguson,  18,  23. 

extracts  from,  197-213. 
Figure,  87-89. 


265 


266      PHILOSOPHY   OF   COMMON   SENSE 


First  cause,  see  God. 
First  principles,  48,  iii  sqq. 
of  contingent  truths,  152- 

157- 
of  necessary  truths,   157- 
161. 
Fraser,  A.  Campbell,  23. 

Galileo,  202. 
Gay,  245. 

God,  102,  103,  105,  107,   117,  I 
155,  164,  183,  186,  212.    I 

Habit,  235,  239-241,  246. 
Hamilton,  Sir  William,  9,  20, 

21,  23. 
Happiness,  175,  209,  229,  245, 

246. 
Hartley,  246,  248. 
Hobbes,  206,  248. 
Honour,  175  sqq. 
Hume,  1-13,  18,  49,  52.  53,  74- 

79,   154,   161,   167,   187, 

189,  225,  246, 
Hutcheson,  243,  245. 
Hypotheses,  117. 

"  Ideal  philosophy,"  2-10,  15, 
29,  35,  41-44,  50-55,  62, 
187. 

Ideas,  4  sqq.,  51,  86,  233  sqq. 

Imagination,  40,  42,  131. 

Individuality,  56  sqq.,  77,  108, 

155- 
Induction,  232. 
Instinct,  94,  223,  229. 
Interest,  173-175. 
Intuition,  113,  226,  261  sqq. 

Johnson,  Dr,  149,  263. 
Jou£Eroy,  22. 

Judgment,  14-17,  43  sqq.,  132 
sqq.,  220. 
moral,  186  sqq. 


Kames,   Lord,    104,    105,    106, 

236,  247. 
Kant,  10-17. 
Kepler,  202. 
King,  Archbishop,  245. 

Laurie,  Prof.  H.,  23. 
Laurie,  Prof.  S.  S.,  22. 
Laws,  moral,  173. 
Laws  of  nature,  100  sqq.,  211, 

231. 
Leibnitz,  106. 
Locke,  2-10,  20,  35,  46,  53,  86, 

125,  143-147,  261. 

M'Cosh,  23. 
Magnitude,  87-89. 
Malebranche,  35. 
Malevolence,  162. 
Mandeville,  248. 
Mathematics,    152,    158,    205, 
256. 
and  morals,  159. 
Matter,  98  sqq.,  104. 
Memory,  40-42,  154,  237,  251, 

255- 
Mental  chemistry,  33. 
Method,   13,  28  sqq.,   76,   152- 

158,  182,  230  sqq. 
Mill,  James,  19  n. 
Monboddo,  Lord,  18  n.,  20. 
Moral  sense,  159,  160,  177,  180. 
Morals,  161-194. 

Natural    Principles   of    Belief, 
14-17,  39  sqq.,  iii  sqq. 

Natural  Realism,  9,  21,  22. 

Nature,  97  sqq.,  157,  197  sqq., 
217,  229. 
state  of,  206. 

Necessary  truths,  1 57-161. 

Newton,  13,  67,  loi,  202,  203, 
209,  239. 


INDEX 


267 


Obligation,  moral,  173  sqq. 
Oswald,  James,  9,  11. 

Paracelsus,  29. 

Passions,  167,  172,  185. 

Perception,  84-100,  1 18-122. 
distinguished     from     sensa- 
tion, 90-91,  122-125. 

Perfection,  199  sqq. 

Peripatetics,  71,  129. 

Personal  identity,  see  Individu- 
ality and  Self. 

Plato,  20,  55. 

Pope,  241. 

Power,  66  sqq.,   100  sqq.,   155, 
164,  229. 

Provost,  253. 

Priestley,  11. 

Pringle-Pattison,   Prof.   A.   S., 

23. 
Probability,  219. 
Progress,  197-213. 
Propositions,  158,  190, 
Prudence,    157-160,    172-174, 

185,  221. 

Qualities,  external,  62  sqq. 
primary  and  secondary,   15, 

84,  125-128. 
tactual,  68,  78,  83. 
visual,  85,  86. 

Rational    principles,  165  sqq., 

172* 
Reason,  220-226,  245. 
as  regulative,  166  sqq. 
elements  of,  256  sqq. 
Reflection,  34,   112,   144,    170, 

183,  187,  208,  253. 
Reid,  1-17,  19,  23. 
extracts  from,  27-194. 


Relations,  58  sqq.,  145  sqq. 

moral,  178,  186. 
Representative  Perception,  4. 
Right  and  wrong,  180-185. 
Royer-CoUard,  22. 

Scepticism,  1-4,  18,  20,  41,  46, 

92,  225. 
Self,  56  sqq.,  77,  113,  154,  250- 

257- 

Self-love,  163. 

Sensation,  37  sqq.,  122-125. 
distinguished    from    percep- 
tion, 90-91,  122-125. 
from   sensed   quality,    78, 
124. 

Sidgwick,  10. 

Signs,  74  sqq.,  82,  87,  89,  93, 
161. 

Simple  apprehension,    13,   40, 

42,   43- 
Smell,  37  sqq.,  60  sqq. 
Smith,  Adam,  2  n.,  244,  245. 
Society,  164,  204,  206,  209. 
Stewart,  18-20,  23. 

extracts  from,  229-264. 
Suggestion,  14,  59  sqq.,  80,  87. 
Sympathy,  169,  221. 
Synthesis,  232. 
System,  35,  210. 

Taste,  159-161. 
Truth,  130  sqq.,  156,  190  sqq., 
217  sqq. 

Virtue,  174-177. 

War,  206,  207. 

Will,  104,  109,  155,  165,  167, 
179,  211,  235. 


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